rocketeer9595

[rocketeer9595]

Bewitched

This story uses characters from the TV show Supernatural.

Along an empty road, a black Chevy Impala parks in front of an abandoned, rundown warehouse. The vehicle's engine purrs as the car sits idle for a moment. Two men exit the classic car, Dean and Castiel, hunter and angel.

"Are you sure this is the place Dean?" Castiel asks as he examines the area. "I don't sense the presence of anyone besides you and I."

Dean heads to boot of the car, popping the trunk open and revealing a stockpile of weapons. "Every lead we found points to here. Only place in town where whoever took these people can keep 'em without getting noticed." He closes the trunk, now with a shotgun in hand.

"If they're even still alive." Castiel adds in a sullen tone.

Numerous disappearances had taken place within a short window in this rural, Midwestern town. All men, all in their late 20s, early 30s. Something supernatural had made its way in and it was Dean and Castiel's job to figure out what.

"Could be a nest of vampires." Castiel throws out an idea, speaking in his usual deep and gravelly voice. "They normally set up in remote places like this."

"Vamps aren't usually too picky about their food." Dean chimes in, keeping a watchful eye as the pair patrols the area surrounding the warehouse. "Whatever this is has a reason for choosing its victims."

"These kidnappings then, they're deliberate, methodical." Castiel surmises.

"Hit the nail right on the head, Cas. I don't think we're dealing with your run of the mill, everyday monster here."

The two finish scouting out the area, returning to the parked Impala. Dean cocks his shotgun while Castiel brandishes an angel blade from within his trench coat. They give each other a small nod and begin walking towards the entrance of the looming warehouse.

The door requires a bit of a push to get it to move, and as soon as it does it drags along the floor, producing a loud screech. Dean enters first, taking deliberate strides as he scans the dimly lit space. Castiel meanwhile follows closely behind, matching Dean's every step. They venture further in but fail to find evidence of the missing people.

"Dean, I still don't sense anyone here." Castiel whispers.

"This place is a bust then." Dean sighs. "I'm sure Sam will be happy to know he'll have to hit the books again." He gives Castiel a cheeky smile as he pulls out his phone, getting ready to give his brother a call.

"Dean, watch out!" Castiel’s sudden warning cuts through the silence.

Dean instinctively ducks, narrowly avoiding a massive fist that whooshes through the air. The blow smashes into the concrete wall behind him, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the surface.

"Son of a—!" Dean scrambles back, shotgun raised.

Out of the shadows emerge a dozen hulking figures, their faces partially obscured but undeniably human. Their muscles bulge unnaturally, veins dark and pronounced against their skin. Their movements are slow and sluggish, but there’s a terrifying power behind every step.

"Cas, watch your back!" Dean yells as he fires a round of rock salt into the nearest brute. The man stumbles back, but remains otherwise unaffected by the blast.

"I know." Castiel sidesteps another attacker, gripping his angel blade tightly, preparing a counterattack but hesitates as soon as he gets a closer look at the assailant. This man bares a striking resemblance to one of the people on the missing posters. "Dean, these are the missing men."

Dean's eyes narrow in on the men before recognition finally sets in as well. "Damn it. You’re right." He ducks under another sluggish punch, landing a sharp kick to the attacker’s knee. The brute collapses but starts to rise again almost immediately.

"They’re... different," Castiel continues, his tone grim as he blocks a heavy swing with his forearm, the impact reverberating through the air. "Their souls are intact, but something has corrupted their physical forms."

"Yeah, well, I don’t care what juiced-up steroids these guys are on, they’re still human!" Dean grabs a crowbar from a nearby workbench, using it to deflect a blow aimed at his head. "We gotta bring them back alive!"

The fight is chaotic but oddly one-sided. Though the brutes strike with the force of freight trains, their attacks are painfully telegraphed, their lumbering movements easy for Dean and Castiel to predict. Dean ducks, weaves, and delivers precise strikes to joints and pressure points, knocking his opponents out cold one by one.

Castiel disables his attackers with angelic precision, using his blade more for defense than offense. One by one, the men collapse into unconscious heaps, defeated but still alive.

As the dust settles, Dean leans against a workbench, breathing heavily. "What the hell was that, Cas? What happened to them?"

Castiel kneels beside one of the unconscious men, his glowing hand hovering over the brute’s forehead. His expression darkens. "Their bodies have been altered. Enhanced beyond human limits, but.." He pauses, looking up at Dean. "This isn’t demonic possession or any spell I recognize. Something physical, something..." He trails off, his brow furrowing.

"Something what?" Dean presses, reloading his shotgun.

Before Castiel can respond, the entire warehouse is engulfed in a blinding white light. Dean shields his eyes with one arm, gritting his teeth as the intense brightness fills every corner of the space.

"Cas? Cas!" he shouts, panic creeping into his voice.

As the light dims, Dean lowers his arm and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. Castiel is gone.

"What the hell..." Dean mutters, spinning around in search of his friend. His eyes lock onto a strange symbol glowing faintly on the wall. He immediately recognizes it as an angel banishing sigil. A man's hand stays pressed against it.

Unlike the brutes from earlier, this man appears perfectly normal. Medium height, sharp features, and dressed in a tailored suit that seems entirely out of place in the dingy warehouse. He watches Dean with a calm, almost amused expression, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean demands, raising his shotgun.

The man steps forward. "You may call me Mateo, warlock extraordinaire." he says, his voice smooth and confident. "Banishing sigils are quite effective, don’t you think? Don't need an angel around to ruin all the fun."

At the mere mention of Castiel, Dean pulls the trigger, aiming squarely at Mateo’s chest. But before the salt round can find its mark, the shotgun is ripped from Dean’s hands by an invisible force, skidding across the floor.

"Impressive reflexes," Mateo remarks, tilting his head slightly but his eyes remaining fixated on Dean. "But crude weapons won’t work on me."

Dean wastes no time. He draws a revolver from his waistband, loaded with witch-killing bullets, and fires. The bullet flies at the warlock, but inches before reaching Mateo, it strikes an invisible barrier and disintegrates into a puff of sparks.

Mateo smiles, unfazed. "What did I just say about crude weapons? You're not a very attentive listener, Dean." With the wave of a hand, the revolver is also thrown out to the side, leaving Dean truly defenseless.

Dean scowls, his mind racing. "So what's the big plan here? Take a bunch of dudes and turn them in your mindless army? Have them fight your battles for you?" He tries to distract the warlock, giving Castiel enough time to return.

"Not so much an army, but a harem of himbos who cater to my every whim." Mateo speaks with so much delight in his voice. "Sadly they're not fighters, my magic can only do so much. You see, my henchmen retain the skills and abilities they had in life. But the unfortunate truth is... most of them were just ordinary men." He gestures toward the hulking brutes scattered across the warehouse. "Laborers, clerks, small-town folks who had never thrown a punch in their lives. They gained strength, yes, but instincts? Combat training? That’s beyond what I can give them."

Mateo takes one further step towards Dean who in turn takes a step back, looking at the doors and hoping for his friend to arrive. "One thing I do love about them though," A wide smile forms on Mateo's face. "They can absolutely take a pounding."

Dean feels an iron grip seize his arms from behind. "What the-" Dean struggles, realizing that the very same men he had knocked unconscious mere moments ago are now standing, surrounding him on all sides with their unblinking eyes fixed on him. Their unnatural strength makes escape impossible as they pin him down, holding him in place.

Mateo saunters closer, eventually closing the gap between them. Dean grits his teeth, thrashing against the vice-like grips of the men holding him. "Get your damn hands off me!" Mateo’s hand rises, and his finger traces a slow, winding line down Dean’s chest.

"But you..." Mateo’s voice softens. "You’re different. I watched you fight, studied every move you made. Your instincts, your precision... they’re natural. Years of hunting and fighting has allowed you to hone your skills. Combine that with the strength I can give you, and you’d be unstoppable."

Dean jerks against the strong hands pinning him down, his jaw clenched. The fear of what Mateo plans to do triggers a sense of panic within him. "Screw you," he growls. "You’re gonna regret not killing me when you had the chance, you son of a-"

Before Dean can finish his threat, Mateo pulls a small, hex bag from his coat and inserts it into Dean's mouth. Dean chokes, gagging as he tries to spit it out, but the Mateo's magic keeps his mouth sealed.

"Much better," Mateo says with a smile, stepping back and producing a burlap sack. He pulls it over Dean’s head, obscuring the hunter's vision entirely.

Dean thrashes violently, muffled screams escaping as Mateo begins to chant in an ancient language. The words reverberate through the warehouse, carrying a dark, pulsating energy that seems to fill the air.

Suddenly, Dean’s body jerks as the magic takes hold. His veins bulge visibly beneath his skin, dark and throbbing with an unnatural force.

It begins with his arms. His biceps swell, the muscles doubling, then tripling in size, the seams of his jacket splitting open as his forearms thicken, veins snaking over the newly expanded mass. His shoulders broaden, the fabric of his shirt tearing apart as they become impossibly wide and powerful.

His chest heaves, his pecs expanding outward like inflating balloons. The buttons on his shirt strain, then pop, one by one, before the material tears entirely, exposing his growing, muscular torso. His abs, once lean and defined, transform into a wall of thick, chiseled muscle.

Dean’s legs convulse, his thighs bulging with newfound strength, tearing through his jeans as they grow to almost double their original size. His calves swell to match, thick and powerful, pressing against what remains of his shredded pants.

His height surges as his spine elongates, adding several inches, his frame now towering and monstrous.

Inside the burlap sack, Dean’s sharp, rugged face broadens, his jaw becoming more square and brutish. The stubble on his face thickens rapidly, transforming into a bushy, unkempt beard that grows wild across his cheeks and jawline. Coarse hair sprouts all over his chest, arms, and back, giving him an almost feral appearance.

Finally, the chanting stops, and Mateo steps forward. He removes the burlap sack from Dean’s head, revealing the transformed man beneath.

Dean’s eyes, once so full of defiance, are now blank, lifeless, devoid of any individuality. His expression is slack, his broad chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. The person he was is gone, replaced by a mindless servant, ready to do Mateo's bidding.

Mateo smiles, admiring his handiwork. "Magnificent," he murmurs, running a hand over Dean’s muscular chest. "You’ll make a fine addition to my collection."

Before Mateo is given the chance to play with his new toy, a familiar face slams the warehouse doors open. Castiel rushes in, his trench coat fluttering behind him. He surveys the scene, his sharp blue eyes narrowing when they land on Mateo.

"Dean!" Castiel calls, his voice filled with urgency. But as he steps closer, he freezes in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief as he notices the man standing besides the warlock.

Standing before him is not the Dean Winchester he knows, but a towering, muscular brute with a blank, vacant stare. His clothes hang in tatters, his chest and arms rippling with incomprehensible strength. Dean’s familiar green eyes are hollow, devoid of the fire and stubbornness Castiel has come to depend on.

"Dean..." Castiel whispers, his voice trembling. His usual composure cracks, and a wave of heartbreak washes over him. "What have you done to him?"

Mateo, still smiling smugly, steps forward. "Ah, the angel. You sure took your sweet time. Allow me to introduce my latest creation." He gestures grandly toward Dean. "Your friend here, I made him perfect. Instincts like a hunter, strength like a monster. A masterpiece. Truly my finest work yet!"

"Turn him back!" Castiel demands, his voice now laced with anger. He unveils his angel blade and points it directly at Mateo. "Undo this, now!"

A perplexed expression forms over Mateo's face. "Why would I undo perfection?" He snaps his fingers.

Dean springs into action instantly, moving with terrifying speed and precision. Castiel barely has time to react as Dean lunges toward him, his fists swinging with brutal force.

"Dean, stop!" Castiel shouts, dodging the first few blows. But the transformed hunter is relentless. Unlike Mateo’s earlier henchmen, Dean’s attacks are calculated, each strike aimed with lethal intent.

Castiel hesitates, his angel blade slipping from his grip as he dodges another attack. He can’t bring himself to harm his best friend, even as Dean's powerful punches crash into him, sending him stumbling backward.

"Dean, it’s me!" Castiel pleads, his voice breaking as another blow connects, forcing him to his knees. Blood drips from his nose and mouth. If he were anything less of an angel he'd be collapsed on the floor.

Mateo steps forward, grinning as he watches Castiel struggle. "Beautiful, isn’t it? The perfect soldier. And now, he’ll finish you off."

He takes the angel blade from the floor and hands it to Dean, who grips it tightly. Castiel looks up at his old friend, his heart breaking anew.

"Dean, please," Castiel whispers, his voice raw with emotion. "I know you’re still in there. Fight it."

Dean’s expression doesn’t change as he raises the blade. Castiel braces himself, his eyes meeting Dean’s, silently pleading.

Dean swings the blade, but instead of striking Castiel, the weapon plunges deep into Mateo’s chest. Mateo gasps, his smug grin replaced by a look of utter shock. "Impossible..." he chokes out, blood spilling from his lips.

Castiel watches in stunned silence as Dean pulls the blade free, Mateo collapsing to the ground. The warlock’s life slips away, but not before he manages a final, taunting laugh. "You’ve won nothing," he rasps. "Only I could undo what’s been done. Without me... he stays like this... forever."

Mateo’s body falls limp, and silence fills the warehouse.

Dean turns to Castiel, his massive frame towering over the angel. His transformed mind struggles to form coherent thoughts, but his eyes briefly flicker with recognition. "Cas..." he rumbles, the single word heavy and strained.

Castiel slowly rises to his feet, wincing from his injuries. He places a hand on Dean’s chest, his voice soft but determined. "Dean, I’ll fix this. I promise you. I’ll find a way to bring you back."

[rocketeer9595]

Opening Night

Stepping out of the shower, Jamie wiped off the condensation that had accumulated on the bathroom mirror. He stared at his reflection, moving his head from side to side as he touched his face, his hand brushing against his bristly beard. He inspected his facial hair, noticing how rampant he had let it grow.

Keep it or shave it off? Jamie pondered as he took out the hair trimmer. He then turned to look at his reflection again, this time taking a step back, allowing him to examine his whole self. 

Jamie frowned, pinching a bit of fat bulging out of his midsection, then cupping his pec with his hand, feeling it much more flabby than he preferred. He pulled at the thick jungle of hair lining his chest, while his eyes followed the happy trail going downwards towards his groin. 

“Might as well lean into the whole bear thing.” Jamie grumbled to himself as he turned on the trimmer, deciding to just trim the beard a bit. Once he was done he looked at the time, noting that it was almost time to leave.

Jamie had been planning on going to the grand opening of a new club in town. He was looking to unwind, have fun, maybe even meet a guy if he got lucky. After a stressful week at work he definitely needed it. What made Jamie feel uneasy however was that he was going alone. This would be his first time going out solo, something he would have preferred to have avoided, but unfortunately none of his friends accepted his offer to go out. But desperately needing to let loose after the hellish week, Jamie built up the courage to go. After taking a quick selfie with his attire of choice for the socials, Jamie headed on out.

It wasn’t long until Jamie’s Uber dropped him off in front of the club. A large neon sign hung at its entrance spelling out in huge letters “EUPHORIA”. Having second thoughts about going in alone, Jamie considered going back. Maybe just going to a bar instead. But knowing how disappointed he’d be in himself if he wimped out, Jamie once again summoned up the courage to head inside.

Jamie couldn’t even hear his own thoughts as he stepped inside the building. Loud music blared from every direction, the base from the speakers reverberated through Jamie’s entire body, causing his skin to tingle with every beat. For a club that just opened, the floor was already extremely sticky from all the spilled drinks. Jamie couldn’t help but think that he looked ridiculous as he took forceful steps while he made his way through the club.

Squeezing himself through a sea of sweaty bodies dancing to the music, Jamie eventually reached the bar, ordering himself one of his favorite fruity cocktails. The bartender looked him up and down before fulfilling his request. 

Over the next hour, Jamie would approach a few different men he found attractive, asking if they wanted to dance or if he could even buy them a drink, but unfortunately he’d be turned down every single time. Whatever confidence Jamie had would be shot to pieces by the time he returned to the bar as he solemnly ordered another drink.

“Striking out?” The bartender asked as he placed a napkin in front of Jamie, catching him off guard at his sudden intrusiveness. “Sorry but I couldn’t help but notice. I don’t mean to be nosy.”

“Yeah..” Jamie meekly responded, beginning to feel slightly embarrassed. He took a sip of his drink, the taste of alcohol feeling much stronger in this one. “I’m not unattractive am I?” He blurted out.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The bartender wasted no time responding. “I’d say you pull off the cub look quite well.”

“Cub?” Jamie was not quite sure how to respond to that comment. Not a bear or an otter or whatever other vernacular the queer community used to describe men of different body shapes. In his head, a cub denoted someone who lacked experience, a bit doe-eyed to the gay scene. Jamie was in his mid 30s, he was sure he’d be past that stage.

“You know, a young hairy guy, packing a bit of weight.” The bartender explained, oblivious to the fact that Jamie knew what he meant.

Before Jamie got a chance to respond, the lights inside the club began to dim and the loud, thumping music switched to a more electronic sound. Turning around, Jamie would notice some dancers coming up to the stage in nothing but skimpy underwear. One by one they took center stage, performing a quick little dance as the spotlight shone down on them. The club goers crowded around the stage, waving around dollar bills, those at the very front even sticking them in the waistbands of the dancers’ clothing.

One dancer in particular caught Jamie’s eye. An orange bandana matching an orange thong were the only things keeping the man clothed, something Jamie was especially thankful for as he gazed lustfully at the man’s lean and muscled body. Between the body rolls and bicep flexes, this dancer knew how to get the crowd going.

Jamie stared for a lot longer than he cared to admit. The man was obviously hot, but what Jamie took notice of was the sheer confidence the dancer emitted. Without hesitation he’d walk up to club patrons and perform these raunchy moves. He'd get as close to them without actually making contact. The smirk he’d give after people stuck dollar bills to the inside of his waistband particularly caught Jamie’s attention. He knew these people lusted after him, and was more than happy to prey on it.

“That’s Manny. He’s from Argentina, doesn’t speak a lick of English.” The bartender leaned across the bar, making it known that Jamie’s fixation on the man had become a bit obvious.

Jamie stared down into the drink swirling in his glass, his face turning red from the embarrassment of being called out. Did the bartender think that Jamie would have tried to make a move? Obviously never, that Manny guy was way out of his league. No way he'd ever give someone like Jamie the time of day. Instead of responding back, Jamie would just order another drink, hoping to drown the awkwardness.

By the time he was on his third, or maybe fourth, cocktail, Jamie found his tongue loosening. The bartender stood nearby, drying glasses and stealing glances at the increasingly tipsy patron.

“You ever... you ever look at someone,” Jamie began, words slightly slurred, “and think, I wanna be them?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the stage. The dancer Manny was still commanding the crowd with his sculpted physique and effortless confidence.

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You mean Manny?”

Jamie nodded emphatically, the alcohol making him more honest than usual. “Yeah. I mean, look at him! He’s like... perfect. If I looked like that, I’d never strike out. Never worry about going out alone. People would just... want me, y’know?” He sighed, taking another sip of his drink.

“Careful what you wish for,” the bartender said, his tone light but his expression unreadable. "Let's get some water in you."

The bartender brought a glass of water, but not before the somewhat drunk Jamie blurted out again. "Actually, yeah. I do wish it! Make it so!" The bartender just sighed.

The rest of the night blurred into a haze. Jamie vaguely remembered mumbling more about Manny, something about wanting confidence, wanting to be seen. But soon, the club's lights seemed to melt into indistinct shapes, the music becoming distant. Darkness enveloped him.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open, his senses overwhelmed by the unfamiliar. His skin felt tight, his muscles coiled like springs beneath smooth, hairless skin. The room spun briefly as he sat up on a cushioned bench, the faint thudding of music beyond the walls grounding him. He glanced down at his body and froze.

“What the...?” he muttered, his voice raspier and deeper than usual. He held out his hands, which were veined and strong, his forearms corded with muscle. Looking further, he saw his torso. Lean, rippling, and sculpted in a way he had only dreamed of. His stomach was carved into a set of perfect abs, his chest broad and chiseled. And then, there was the orange thong stretched across his hips, a strikingly familiar piece of clothing.

Jamie scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding as he stumbled toward the large mirror hanging on the wall. The man staring back at him was undeniably Manny, the same lean, confident dancer he’d been fixated on all night. His jaw dropped as he touched his face, his reflection mirroring his every move. It wasn’t just the body; it was him. Somehow, Jamie had become Manny.

“Oh my God...” Jamie whispered, the realization hitting him like a freight train. Memories of his drunken conversation with the bartender surfaced. I want a body like Manny’s. Was this some bizarre, drunken hallucination?

He stared at his reflection, unable to resist the temptation. His hands ran over his chest, down his abs, and along his biceps, marveling at the strength he felt. Confidence radiated from the sight, intoxicating and new. Jamie smiled, then smirked, experimenting with expressions that felt natural yet foreign.

Before he could indulge further, the door to the dressing room swung open. Jamie turned quickly, startled, and his stomach dropped at the sight.

His own body, slouched, sweaty, and clearly intoxicated, was being half-carried into the room by the very same bartender from before. His doppelgänger’s head lolled to the side, and when he spoke, it was with Manny’s voice, thick with an Argentinian accent.

"¿Qué hiciste? ¿Por qué eres yo?" Manny growled, though his words were slurred. His glare was sharp despite his inebriation.

Jamie blinked, he had no prior knowledge of the Spanish language yet those words came out effortlessly out of his own lips. "Manny? I'm sorry but I don't know what's going on." He looked at the bartender, hoping for some kind of explanation for all of this.

The bartender, still holding Manny upright, let out a sigh and set the man down on a nearby chair. “Alright, calm down, both of you.” he said, his tone exasperated. He looked directly at Jamie. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

Jamie’s mind raced, his new heart pounding. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Why am I... like this?”

The bartender crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m a genie,” he said plainly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “When you confessed your desire to have Manny’s body, well... I’m obligated to grant wishes. That’s my thing.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. Why are you working as a bartender then? Drunks must spill their desires to you all the time?" He pointed at himself as he spoke.

"Job pays well." The bartender shrugged. "I usually cut people off before they get too rambly, but I didn't figure you'd be such a lightweight." He said a bit too honestly. “You wanted confidence, a body like his. So here we are. But..” he continued, glancing at Manny, “the swap wasn’t exactly consensual on both ends, so... it’s reversible.”

Manny groaned, his head in his hands. “Reversible? Por favor, hazlo ya.” he pleaded, his voice strained.

Jamie looked between the bartender and his own body, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had never felt so good about himself, so powerful, so free of the insecurities that plagued him. But this wasn’t his life, it was Manny’s. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t live someone else’s life, no matter how tempting it was.

“Swap us back.” Jamie said firmly, though the words stung. “This isn’t right.”

The bartender nodded, a hint of approval flickering in his eyes. “Alright. As you wish.” He snapped his fingers.

The change was instant. Jamie felt his perspective shift, his body returning to its familiar tipsy state. He was back in his own skin, with all its imperfections, as Manny reclaimed his rightful form.

Manny groaned as he stood, shaking off the lingering effects of Jamie’s earlier drinking. He glanced at Jamie, his expression softening slightly. “Gracias.” he muttered before leaving the room.

Jamie turned back to the bartender, feeling a pang of regret as he ran a hand over his softer body. “Well.” he said, forcing a chuckle, “I guess that’s that.”

The bartender gave him a sly smile. “Not quite.” He snapped his fingers again.

A warm sensation coursed through Jamie’s body. He looked down in awe as his frame began to change, not into Manny’s, but something new. His muscles swelled, his chest broadened, his beard thickened, and a dusting of gray added a rugged charm. His torso became strong and harry, his arms powerful. He kept the same layer of fat, but the gained muscle added a much more masculine touch than before.

He looked in the mirror and saw not someone else, but a version of himself he had always dreamed of. His face had much more of a gruffness to it, there was no denying that he was a man in this thirties anymore. His hair was different, shaved down to the scalp, something Jamie never thought he could pull off. Jewelry manifested itself onto Jamie, completing his new look. Jamie couldn't do anything else but flex and admire the new person he had become.

“Consider this a gift,” the bartender said. “You didn’t have to give up Manny’s body, but you did. That deserves something.”

Jamie was stunned. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rich and deep.

“Now, go use that confidence,” the bartender said, motioning toward the door.

Jamie stepped out onto the dance floor, his new self commanding attention immediately. The very same men who denied his advances just earlier that night were now ogling at the muscle bear, but he paid them no mind. His eyes instead met those of a fellow muscular man across the room. The two gravitated toward each other, dancing close, the music pulsing around them.

When the man leaned in, Jamie didn’t hesitate. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss, and for the first time in a long while, Jamie felt truly alive.

[rocketeer9595]

Tech Support

“Good lord, how do they expect me to do this myself?”

Stuart’s brow furrowed as he flipped between the pages of what appeared to be an instruction manual, growing increasingly irritated with every turn of the page. Its cover reading “Wireless Router Setup Instructions”, the man in his fifties skimmed through the nearly quarter-inch thick booklet while occasionally glancing over at his phone sitting off to the side. A monotonous sounding song played on a loop but every now and then the music would be abruptly interrupted by an automated message.

“Your call is very important to us, please stay on the line and one of our representatives will be with you shortly.”

Tapping the phone’s screen, Stuart realized that he’d been on hold for nearly half an hour. Letting out an exacerbated sigh, his patience was beginning to wear thin. He fiddled with whatever he could find laying on his desk trying to pass the time. A set of picture frames featuring his family caught his attention. Stuart stared at them for a while before lingering on one of himself.

More time went by and he still remained on hold. The man tried to keep himself calm by thinking about why he was doing this in the first place.

His job had given him the option of working from home. Stuart was an old school guy by nature, set in his ways, so he was initially reluctant to such a drastic change to his lifestyle. He was content with the way things were, but prodding by his teenaged kids and the promise of a raise if he were to take the new position were incentive enough to at least give it a try.

The only issue and the reason why he was on hold in the first place was that he needed to install a new router as his job required him to have a more secure internet connection. 

Stuart thought himself technologically savvy for his age, but that soon proved to be untrue the moment he first cracked open the manual. To him, it was as if it was written in another language. It didn’t take long for Stuart to admit that he was way in over his head so he dialed the number for customer support for some much needed assistance.

After waiting for several more minutes, the music that played suddenly cut and instead of an automated voice, what seemed like a real person started speaking.

“Hello, I apologize for the wait. My name is Jeremy, how can I assist you today?”

A man’s voice spoke from the other side of the line. Stuart quickly moved to pick up the phone.

“Uh, hey there Jeremy. Nice to meet ya.” 

Stuart proceeded to fill in Jeremy on his situation, telling him how he needed to set up a new router for his job but was finding the installation process a bit out of his breadth. 

“I’ll be more than happy to assist you with that, sir.” Jeremy spoke in a youthful, cheery tone. “Looks like you purchased one of our newest models.”

“Yeah. Got it for my job. I’m tryin’ out this work from home thing.” Stuart responded. “Everyone I’ve talked to seems to recommend it.”

“Well once you start you’re not going to want to go back." Jeremy said. "And I say that from experience.”

“That’s good to know. Thank you, son.” Stuart replied back.

“Ok, so to start you off we’re going to have you create an account with us.”

Jeremy proceeded to ramble on all the steps Stuart would have to take in order to complete the installation process. Most of it seemed to line up with some of the things he had read on the manual but Stuart was just happy to have someone guide him along.

Nearly thirty minutes passed until Stuart realized they were arriving towards the last few pages. Jeremy had instructed Stuart to connect all sorts of cables to the router, pressing whichever buttons, and having Stuart relay to him everything he did.

“Just a few more steps and then we’re done.” Jeremy reassured Stuart who was just happy to almost be done with it all.

“Well I sure do appreciate all your assistance. You’ve been a huge help so far.”

“No worries, sir. It’s literally my job.” Jeremy let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t think my kids could have helped me with this. They’re good with technology and computers but this all seems like it’s on another level.” Stuart admitted. “You got any children yourself?”

The line stayed silent for a split second, as if Jeremy wasn’t expecting to be on the receiving end of a personal question.

“Uh, no sir. Unless you count my cats. I refer to them as my furbabies.” Jeremy chuckled to himself once more, this time being joined by a boisterous laugh from Stuart. “But maybe sometime down the line.”

“Well you sound young so you still got time. But you don’t wanna be like me who waited till their mid-thirties to start having them. I just turned fifty-two and I barely got the energy to keep up. They got me runnin’ all over the damn place. Whether it’s driving them to sports practice or dealing with all that teenage angst. I know I shouldn’t say it but sometimes I feel like I need a break from it all.”

“I appreciate the advice.” Jeremy tried to cut Stuart off before the man started going off in another tangent. “Let’s finish off these last few steps.”

A little while later Jeremy and Stuart seemed to be nearing the end of the process.

“Alright, everything seems done for the most part. Let me just sort everything out on my side and that should be it. I’ll go ahead and do that right now.”

A few seconds passed before Jeremy started talking again. “Ok Stuart, can you tell me if a green light is flashing on the router?”

Stuart did as he was instructed. “Unless I’ve suddenly gone colorblind, I only see a red light.”

“Huh.. ok.” Jeremy sounded dumbfounded on the line as Stuart moved to get a closer look at the router, taking off his glasses and putting them aside. “Let me see if I can troubleshoot this, hold on for just a moment.” Jeremy went silent again.

“You know Jeremy, I may be an old fart but even I know that the solution can sometimes be as simple as turning it on and off. You don’t need a tech degree to know that.” Stuart proceeded to look for the power button.

“Wait, don’t do that!” Jeremy immediately spoke up. “I’ve reset the connection. Turning it on and off can cause the circuit to overload!”

Before Stuart even had a chance to process Jeremy’s words, he’d already gone ahead and pressed the power button on the router. As he touched it, a few sparks flew from it followed by a sudden jolt of electricity that coursed through his body, causing Stuart to fall backwards onto the floor and knocking him out for the time being. The line meanwhile stayed silent on the other side.

It wasn’t long before Stuart started coming back to his senses. He found himself slumped over on his desk, drool having pooled where his head was laying. His body felt numb but as soon as he moved a tingling sensation starting coursing from his head to his toes. The grogginess was yet to subside as Stuart looked around for his phone, thinking that Jeremy must be wondering what had happened. Something didn’t quite feel right however.

His desk and all the things that were on it were different. His work laptop was replaced by dual monitors. The picture frames he had of himself and his kids were gone. In their place was a lamp and an office phone with a headset right next to it. But most obvious of all, his large and heavy wooden desk was now a sleek and modern table. Stuart tried to rub his eyes only to be stopped by the thick frames of the glasses he’d been wearing.

The tingling sensation he’d been experiencing soon began to subside, allowing Stuart to finally start noticing some subtle details. Feeling a tickle under his nose, he reached to scratch it only to be met with the thick bristles of a mustache. Stuart had just trimmed his beard that very morning, so there was no way it had grown all bushy so quickly. Using his hand to feel the rest of his face, he’d discover that his beard was gone, sans the mustache, and that his face felt different. His jaw was sharp and checks were slender. His skin no longer coarse from years of sun exposure but smooth and tight. 

Finally giving the room he was in a good look, the realization that he was not in his home office anymore dawned on him. Stuart was in what appeared to be someone else’s apartment. The aesthetic was minimal, with furniture and decor few and far between. Whether by choice or not was hard to tell. A full length mirror stood on the other side of the room and when Stuart got up and approached it, he immediately realized what had happened.

“Well this ain’t right…”

Stuart spoke out loud as he examined himself in the mirror. 

“What on God’s green earth is going on?”

The pitch of his voice was much higher than he’d been used to but there was some familiarity to it. Stuart stared at the face looking back at him, running his hands through the messy, coal-black hair. As he was busy analyzing every feature of his new face, he felt something rub against his leg. A fluffy cream-colored cat looked up at him, meowing loudly. That's when it finally clicked.

“Jeremy?”

Stuart had somehow woken up in the body of the man he was on the call with. The shock from the router must have been the cause. How or why it happened was beyond him however.

Stuart paced around the rather empty apartment, trying to wrap his head around the situation. As he did so, he’d notice how much easier it was to move around. His joints didn’t crack as much and there was a bit more pep in his step. Stuart had longed for the days when he was as limber as he was now. While that should have been the least of his concerns, Stuart couldn't help but notice some features that came with the body he found himself in.

“This Jeremy fellow seems to take care of himself, that’s for sure.”

Stuart commented as he once again checked himself out in the mirror. He could feel the lean musculature of Jeremy's body through the shirt. Curiosity getting the better of him, he lifted up the shirt he was wearing revealing a set of abs and a v-line that lead down into his groin area.

"Uh, I should probably leave that alone."

Stuart awkwardly tucked the shirt back in. While he did sometimes yearn to be young again, this wasn't quite how he imagined it.

"I need to get a hold of Jeremy."

Before even getting the chance, a phone sitting on the desk started going off. Picking it up, he immediately noticed that it was a FaceTime call, recognizing the caller ID as his own. While hesitant to answer it at first, Stuart knew that only one person could be on the other side of the call.

"Uhm, hello? Is this Jeremy?"

A perplexed looking man bearing Stuart's very own appearance stared at him, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a very uneasy feeling as the two men watched each other through the small screens of their phones. Neither knowing exactly what to say, they remained silent until the older man started talking.

"Yeah it's me, Jeremy."

Jeremy spoke using Stuart's midwestern twang, his voice now several octaves lower than what he was used to.

"Something happened when the router got overloaded. I don't know what it was but it caused us to switch places. Try not to panic, okay?"

"I'm as cool as a cucumber. Don't you worry about me, son."

While Stuart was definitely confused about their predicament, he managed to remain somewhat nonchalant about the whole ordeal. The fact that Stuart could only look at his new self on the screen as Jeremy spoke helped provide a nice distraction.

"I'll find a way to fix this and get us back to normal. I'm gonna need to make a call to my boss." Jeremy then paused for a moment, scratching his now graying beard. "This new model of routers.. there's more to it than what I've been told. Stay put, okay? Don't go anywhere! And don't do anything reckless!!"

"Whatever you say, buddy. I'll keep my butt planted on this desk of yours. I'm sure we'll get this sorted out." Stuart moved the phone around, giving Jeremy a good look at his work station.

With Jeremy leaving the call to get to the bottom of everything, Stuart was finally left to his own devices. Of course he wasn't going to galavant across town in this new body, he was a man of his word after all, but that didn't mean has wasn't going to enjoy this break away from his busy and mundane life. No kids. Few responsibilities. Young and spry body. Stuart would make every second of this new life count, at least until Jeremy found a way to switch them back.

[rocketeer9595]

Olympic Dreams

A loud cacophony of cheers and applause rattled the inside of the Indianapolis Aquatics Center. A group of Olympic hopefuls situated themselves in their positions on the starting blocks, ready to compete in the 100M Freestyle and book their tickets to Paris later that summer. The venue turned eerily quiet as the swimmers waited for the starter’s command. A loud buzz and they were off.

Swimming vigorously along lane 7 was Chase Kovacs. Chase had dreamed of going to the Olympics since he first watched Dutch swimmer Pieter Van Den Hoogenband win gold at Sydney 2000. That moment kickstarted years worth of training, diligence, and determination to one day be able to call himself an Olympian. That dream however always seemed out of reach. Whether it be due to injury or not performing well on the day, Chase would just miss out on making the team. Now 28 years old, Chase could feel time fleeting away. As hard as he trained, he knew he couldn’t keep performing at this level forever. It was Paris or bust.

Not even a minute after the starting buzzer went off the event was already over. The men who had just swam their heart out looked at the digital scoreboard that held their fate with baited breath. 

Chase’s heart sank as he saw the results. His personal best at the trials, but that didn’t seem to matter as his name appeared further down in the rankings than he would have liked. He wasn’t out yet, but he remained on the bubble and had to agonizingly wait to see how his time would hold up after all his competitors had raced.

A few hours and hundreds of laps across the pool later Chase would finally learn if he could start packing his bags or not. And he could, but not for the reason he would have liked. He was named an alternate. That’s what Chase was left with at the end of the day. Not officially on the team but forced to remain on standby in case of injury or someone was forced to withdraw. A devastating blow, but Chase tried to keep hope alive.

Throughout the entire month leading up to the games, Chase continued his training. He did early morning practice sessions in the pool, aerobic exercises, and strength and conditioning workouts. One would think Chase had made the team considering how dedicated he remained to his training, but Chase wanted to be ready on the slim chance he got the call. But the closer the Olympics came, the less likely he felt like that opportunity would come.

Finally in Paris, Chase arrived with the rest of Team USA. He’d partake in practices and hang out with his friends and fellow teammates, but due to his status as an alternate would be excluded from several things as well. He could not stay at the Olympic Village and most importantly could not join the rest of Team USA during the Parade of Nations at the Opening Ceremony.

As hundreds of athletes from the participating countries rode the boats sailing down the Seine, Chase could only sit back and watch the Opening Ceremony from the TV in his hotel room. He stirred in his seat as he waited for Team USA to pass through. Although he was told since the beginning that his chances at actually competing would be slim to none, he was only now growing to accept the reality that his dream would not come true. All his years of dedication to this singular goal would be for naught. And it’s not like he was asking for a lot. He wasn’t aiming for a medal, to stand atop of the podium. He just wanted a chance.

Trying to keep the negative thoughts away, Chase decided to sneak away from his hotel and swim a few laps around the pool to clear his thoughts. 

As Chase arrived, he’d find the aquatics center empty with no one in sight. He figured everyone was either taking part in the Opening Ceremony or getting rested before the first day of the swimming events commenced, so he had the whole place to himself. Chase swam several laps, and for a moment felt like all his troubles went away. 

Getting everything he needed from that swim, Chase headed to the locker rooms for a quick shower. With a towel around his waist, he looked at himself in a mirror and smiled. He had finally accepted that it maybe just wasn’t mean to be. Perhaps life had a different plan for him. And it certainly did.

As Chase stood in front of the mirror, a strange feeling overwhelmed him. He felt off but in a way he couldn’t describe. He had no idea what was going on, that is until he looked at his reflection. His body, which he took great care to keep in peak condition, began undergoing changes. 

Large portions of his body started accumulating mass, a mixture of both muscle and fat. His defined pecs grew saggy and soft. His visible abs and obliques now hidden by a protruding stomach. While his shoulders remained broad, his wingspan shortened in size as his long and lean arms changed into short and muscular ones. His long legs also shortened causing Chase to lose a few inches in height. But what he lost in height he gained in weight as his thighs and ass became the biggest recipients of his newly gained mass. Finally dark, thick hairs sprouted all over his previously shaved body. No inch of skin was spared as a carpet of fur covered his chest, stomach, arms and legs. The hair spread upwards as a well-trimmed beard formed on his previously clean shaven face. The angular features of his face also contorted into softer, rounder ones. A broader nose, more furrowed brow, and a different hairstyle added the finishing touches to Chase’s miraculous transformation.

Chase looked at his new self in awe. His swimmer’s body transformed into a bulkier, heftier one. One meant to do something else. Unable to completely process what just took place, he explored his new body, flexing his enormous biceps almost out of instinct. His confusion as to why this happened kept him from freaking out. But his questions soon got answered as memories started implanting themselves in his head.

While his old ones weren’t necessarily replaced, these new memories took centerstage in his psyche. His passion to join the Olympics still burned as bright as ever, but not as a swimmer. Fate took him on another journey instead as his body was built for a different sport. One that required power over speed. This version of Chase aimed to conquer the world in the sport of shot put.

Unlike the swimmer who proved unsuccessful in his attempts, this new Chase managed to find his calling in this sport. With multiple world championships under his belt, qualifying for this track and field event proved to be a rather easy feat. But for Chase, making it to the Olympics wasn’t the primary goal. No longer did he have to barely scrape by, but he was ready to thrive. He had his eyes set for gold, something which seemed very much possible with this new and improved body.

Once these memories settled inside Chase’s head, he finally got a grasp of the situation he faced. He was presented with the possibility of not only making his childhood dream come true, but exceeding that dream and reaching heights he never thought possible. He'd have to leave his old life behind, but to Chase this was more than worth it.

Ready to embrace this new version of him, Chase looked at the time. If he rushed, he might even make it in time to join his fellow Olympians for the Opening Ceremony.

[rocketeer9595]

Inside Man

Detective Robbie McKay laid on the gurney, surrounded by doctors and nurses who rushed him through the endless hospital hallways with a pace indicating urgency. His body throbbed with pain and each breath was more agonizing than the last. As the medication did its best to numb his discomfort, his mind floated in and out of consciousness with memories of a shootout flashing before his eyes. He could still hear the exchange of gunfire, see the bombardment of quick flashes, and feel the searing pain of a bullet tearing through his flesh.

Memories of the briefing earlier that day invaded his thoughts as well. He remembered sitting at this desk, surrounded by fellow officers, listening intently as Chief Ramirez laid out the plan to bust a notorious drug ring.

"An informant on the inside tells us that they're planning on moving a shipment of drugs, guns and other paraphernalia out of their warehouse tonight. That's why I'm gonna need all units on deck." Chief Ramirez spoke with authority as he went into the details, most of which were too hazy for Robbie to remember.

Robbie did remember being pulled aside by the Chief. "Thanks again for agreeing to come along McKay. I know you're in homicide but for a bust this big I'm going to need my best guys."

"As if saying no was even an option Chief. You know I'll follow you anywhere into battle." Robbie was as loyal as they'd come. Devoted to his job and to his boss, those last words echoed in Robbie's head as he soon faced the consequences of his undying commitment.

As Robbie drifted back to awareness, he caught snippets of conversation around him. Voices muffled by the haze of medication and trauma. But one voice cut through the fog—the commanding tone of Chief Ramirez.

"Do whatever you can to save him. We can't lose him." The Chief's voice demanded.

"But sir, he's lost a lot of blood. And the bullet pierced one of the lungs—"

"I don't care dammit!" Chief Ramirez slammed his fist against the wall, urgency dripping from every word. "Use the machine if you have to. You have my permission."

Robbie tried to focus, to make sense of the situation. Machine? They were speaking as if he was on the verge of death. Robbie had much more questions on his mind but he was soon hit with another wave fogginess. His eyelids grew heavy again, a sign that the meds were about to work their magic once more.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself in a sterile hospital room, monitors beeping softly in the background. He tried to move, but every inch of his body protested in agony.

"Ch-Chief?" Robbie tried to call out, his voice sounding off. "Nurse??" His throat felt dry but thankfully a glass of water sat on the table next to his bed. As Robbie feebly reached for the drink he noticed a drastic change that sent a jolt of panic down his spine.

His hands, once fair and calloused from years of police work, now bore a darker complexion, somewhat of a caramel color. And they were adorned with tattoos—symbols he didn't recognize inked into his skin.

He reached up to touch his head, expecting to feel the familiar buzz of his crew cut. But his fingers met smooth skin instead, his hair shaved down to the scalp. And when he brushed his hand against his face, he felt not the familiar stubble of his beard, but a neatly trimmed goatee framing his fuller lips.

"What's going on??!" Robbie screamed out, hoping for anyone to hear him. "What happened to me??" This time he could make out the distinct change in his voice. With these longer sentences he could make out an accent, one belonging to the people he'd occasionally arrest on the streets.

Fear surged through him as he struggled to make sense of the situation unfolding before him. He had been shot in the chest, he remembered that much. But everything else felt wrong—unnatural. This had to be dream, a nightmare even, but the constant pain he felt confirmed that this was indeed reality.

Summoning all his strength, Robbie pushed himself out of the bed, his muscles protesting with every movement. Clutching his midsection where the pain was the strongest, he stumbled toward the bathroom, desperate for answers.

When he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, his heart nearly stopped. Staring back at him was not the face of Robbie McKay, decorated and revered detective from the LAPD, but that of a stranger—a Latino man with dark eyes and a stern expression.

Panic seized him, his mind reeling with disbelief. What had happened to him? How could this be real?

Robbie approached the mirror, getting a better look at his new self. The height disparity was one of the first things he noticed. Having been accustomed to towering over everything at 6'4'', he must now have been no taller than 5'7''. He also realized his tattoos not only stopped at his arms, but covered his chest, torso, and from what he could make out his back as well. Whatever skin wasn't covered by black ink was marred by scars.

Before he could make sense of it all, the hospital staff burst into the room, their voices a blur of confusion and concern. They moved quickly to sedate him, their hands gentle yet firm as they guided him back to the bed.

And then Chief Ramirez entered the room, his expression grave as he approached Robbie's bedside.

"I'm sorry, Robbie," the chief said, his voice heavy with regret. "You are one of our best and you were on the brink of death. So I had to make a difficult decision."

Robbie's heart pounded in his chest as he listened, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.

"The procedure is experimental. Only the higher ups back in DC know of its existence. But I managed to pull a few strings in exchange for access to their machine." The chief coldly explained the situation.

"What did you to do me? Who is this man?" Robbie pleaded for answers, pointing at his face as he looked at the chief with frantic eyes.

"We swapped your body with that of one of the gang members. He got hit pretty badly during the exchange, but his situation wasn't as dire as yours." There was a pause that for Robbie felt like an eternity.

"He died in your body just a moment ago." Chief lingered on that last sentence for a moment. "It was the only way to save you."

The words echoed in Robbie's mind, sending a chill down his spine. He had been transformed into a stranger, thrust into a world he didn't belong to, all against his will.

"And who said I wanted this? To look like a fucking thug from across the border? What am I supposed to tell my wife? My kids??" As Robbie's voice rose, the beeping from the monitors followed suit.

"Please try to keep calm. Your heart rate's spiking." A nurse tried to get the cop to settle down.

"Vete a la mierda pinche cabrónes!"

The sudden outburst caused the entire room to fill with silence, the only noise being the increasingly frequent beeps coming from the machines. Robbie hadn't even realized he cursed out everyone in the room in fluent Spanish, a language he was barely familiar in.

"Give us the room." The chief ordered the doctors and nurses working on Robbie to leave, which they all promptly did. Shutting the door behind them, he approached Robbie, standing right next to his bed.

"I understand that you're upset, son." Chief Ramirez spoke up, breaking the silence. His voice ditching his usually authoritative tone, this time adopting a tinge of empathy. "But we have a plan for you. That's if you want it of course."

Robbie stared at his boss with a vindictive expression. What could he do to make this situation better? What could the Chief even remotely offer? Curiosity eventually got the better of him. "What is it?"

Chief Ramirez took out a manilla folder and tossed in on Robbie's lap. Opening it up, Robbie would find a picture of the man whose body he now possessed. Beneath it would be documents listing the man's demographics, arrest records, even unpaid parking tickets. Any information the government would have about this man's life would be found in that folder.

"Rogelio Fuentes." Robbie read the man's name out loud with a quiver in his voice.

"You're a great detective Robbie. One of the best the department's ever seen. Now with you in that body, we have a direct line to the underbelly of the crime ring that's devastating this city. We have the opportunity to take it down from within." The chief explained.

"Y-You want me to pretend to be this guy?" Robbie gawked in disbelief. "Play undercover cop?!"

"That's exactly what I'm asking. Assume this man's life, live as Rogelio Fuentes and coordinate with us as we dismantle this gang from the inside."

"But my wife and my kids..?"

"As far as they're concerned, you'll be dead. Died bravely fighting for his city. I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but I also know how important serving and protecting the community is to you. Your unwavering dedication to the force is what drew me to you. It's what made me fight hard to get those doctors to save your life. Because we can't let someone like that go to waste."

Robbie stared ahead, ignoring Chief Martinez as he deeply pondered the predicament he found himself in. While he loved his job, was he willing to throw his previous life away for such a big task?

"And like I said before, this was an experimental procedure using technology from the Feds. Complete this mission and impress them enough, maybe they'd let us use it again to get you a more suitable body in the future."

The room filled with silence once more. Robbie could only think about what he'd be leaving behind. His family, his friends, his old life. But if he said no to Chief Martinez, would he even be able to return to his wife and kids as he is? Would they accept his story? Believe him when he were to tell them who he is?

"I'll do it." Robbie looked at the chief with determination. "Nomás digame lo qué tengo que hacer."

Robbie felt a surge of valor coursing through his veins. He knew the risks involved—the dangers of taking on and dismantling a powerful cartel from the inside. But Robbie was never one to back down from a challenge. He was determined to do whatever it took to rid the streets of drugs and violence, to make his city a safer place for its citizens, but most importantly his family who'd have to carry on without him. Although a little hope remained that after all was said and done, the Chief would even be able to carry out his end of the deal and he'd soon be able to reunite with his family.

[rocketeer9595]

Holiday Spirit

The distorted echoes of holiday music bounced off the bare hallway walls of a run down mall. Within one of its dimly lit back rooms a man in Santa attire leaned against the wall, scrolling through his phone with a joint pressed between his lips. Suddenly, the door to the room swung open and through it walked in a man with a name tag inscribed with the words: Supervisor.

“Yo Joel, you got five more minutes and then I need your ass back in that chair.” 

“Fucking hell Alan, I literally just went on my break.”

“Hey, you know the deal. You get a ten minute break every two hours. The line’s starting to wrap around the food court and it’s only getting longer. And the longer people have to wait, the more irritable they are when they finally get to you.”

“Fuck off, I’m taking my break.

“Listen, the only reason you still got a job here is because no one else is desperate enough to play mall Santa and listen to snot-nosed children for hours on straight. Be grateful I haven’t fired you on the spot for that piss poor attitude. So if you wanna get paid, I expect you back out there in.. three minutes now.”

Alan exits the room prompting Joel to flip him off behind his back but he immediately peeks his head back in, noticing the extended middle finger in his face but remaining unfazed by it.

“And spray yourself with some Febreeze or some shit before you head out. You smell like a fucking skunk.”

Alan finally leaves as Joel takes one last hit from his joint before putting it away for later. Alan’s words echoed in his head, drowning out the cheery, festive music that had been looping over the intercoms for days on end. As much as Joel hated his boss, hated his job, and would literally rather be doing anything else, he was indeed desperate for the cash so he couldn’t afford to be fired.

Looking at his reflection in one of the mirrors hanging on the walls of the break room, Joel flexed and posed, showcasing his muscled frame before having to cover it all in baggy clothing.

Joel hated wearing the full Santa suit. To start off, it was three sizes too big. Joel was fit and lean, so the bagginess of the suit did him absolutely no favors. It was also the only suit his workplace had so he was forced to share it with the other guys to worked there, most of which were big, burly, and tended to sweat a lot. The thing he probably hated most was the fake white beard that covered almost half his face and itched like hell. It was almost impossible to tell it was Joel under there which severely hampered his ability to hit on the single moms.

Putting aside all those issues, Joel put on the entire ensemble. As he headed out, he grabbed the can of peppermint-scented air freshener and sprayed himself from head to toe in a feeble attempt to cover up the weed smell.

Walking out of the back rooms and into the heavily decorated walkways of the mall, Joel feigned his jolly demeanor as he approached the aptly named Santa’s Workshop. He noticed the line of people waiting to see Santa. Parents with their kids stared Joel down as he made his way to his chair.

“Took him long enough.”

“Where’s fat and jolly Santa?”

“We waited all this time for that?”

Joel could hear some of the comments made by the adults and immediately knew he was in for a long night. Sitting down, he signaled to one of his “elf” workers start letting people in.

“Let’s get this shit over with.”

Roughly an hour and a half passed and the line of people seemed no shorter than when he started. Not surprising since Christmas was only a few days away but Joel was beginning to feel indignant at the whole situation. More than he already was anyways.

What didn’t help were the countless rowdy kids that would come his way, followed by their inattentive or even sometimes asshole parents. Through it all, however, Joel tried to focus on what really mattered, the check he’d be getting at the end.

“Okay Santa, here’s six-year old Nathan.”

One of the workers brought in the next kid and situated him on Joel’s lap. Before Joel even got a word out he noticed that the boy was already on the verge of a crying fit.

“Mooooommmyy!”

The boy turned away from Joel with tears running down his face, holding his arms out for his mother who was a short distance away with her phone, prepping to take a photo.

“Looks like he wants to go with you.”

“He’ll calm down. I just need to find the best angle so I can get as much of the tree in the picture as possible. Entertain him for me, will you?”

Joel made a half-assed attempt at calming the kid which only made the crying turn into blood-curdling screams. The boy squirmed and fussed on Joel’s lap, trying to get away. At one point he even kicked Joel in the groin. Meanwhile his mom stayed completely engrossed on her phone, ignoring the situation that was unfolding in front of her. Having had enough, Joel eventually reached his breaking point.

“Lady, come get your kid. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

“Excuse me? I paid for my time with Santa just like everybody else.”

“Does it look like I give a fuck?”

The mother immediately ran to grab her child, setting Joel free from his figurative hell. He stood up, yanking the fake white beard off his face, and started walking away.

“I’m telling your manager!”

“Go ahead. See if I care!”

Joel walked past the line of people again where through their whispers could hear them talking about what had happened. Some even had their phones out, seemingly having captured the whole thing on camera.

“Where the hell is he going?”

“Are they going to bring someone else?”

“Where’s his holiday spirit?”

It wasn’t long until Joel found himself back in the break room. He walked in circles around the tables and chairs, still feeling the high of what he just did. He acted out what every frustrated employee in a dead end job had always dreamt of doing. Feeling on top of the world he took out the blunt he saved from earlier and lit it again, unafraid of facing the consequences since he had basically just quit.

As Joel finished up and was ready to leave this place once and for all, he noticed how hazy the room had gotten. Joel had smoked in there numerous times in the past and it never got that bad. Taking a deep whiff, the smoke didn’t have that weed odor. In fact, there seemed to be a myriad of recognizable scents. Gingerbread, pumpkin spice, peppermint. Whatever smells one would associate with the holiday season would soon fill the entirety of the room. Looking around, Joel would discover that smoke was being pumped in via one of the air vents in the ceiling.

“What the hell?”

Joel tried to leave but the door wouldn’t budge, almost as if it had been locked from the outside. He banged on it repeatedly and screamed for someone to let him out, not knowing that with each call for help he’d inhale more and more of the smoke. Within a minute or two, the lightheadedness was beginning to set in. 

As Joel slammed his firsts into the door, he’d notice something peculiar happening to his body. A gut was beginning to form. The abs he worked hard to get were slowly covered in a layer of fat. In a short amount of time he was left with a round little belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly. This extended to his pecs as they softened to form a nice pair of moobs. His legs, arms, and face would eventually follow, turning Joel into a plump and hefty man.

Joel’s face would then begin to morph. His tan faded away, revealing much fairer skin but with rosy cheeks and a cherry red nose. His angled and sharp face became broader, with his beard growing out in the process. And finally his dark brown hair receded into his head, but every other inch of hair on his body turned white as snow with his newly elongated beard following suit. This coincided with Joel appearing to age several years as wrinkles appeared on his face and several other parts of his body. The man in his early thirties soon looked like he could be well over fifty.

The changes finally stopped, leaving Joel standing in the middle of the room with a glazed look on his new face. He stood motionless, breathing heavy, when suddenly the holiday music playing on the intercoms was interrupted by an announcement. 

“We need Santa back to Santa’s Workshop. Repeat. Santa back to Santa’s Workshop.”

That was Alan’s voice making the announcement and it was enough to snap Joel out of whatever trance he was in. He was not the same Joel as before, however. There was a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A softness in his demeanor as well. He looked around the room and then at his reflexion in the mirror.

“Oh shoot. I might have overdone it with the milk and cookies.”

Joel laughed as he clenched his belly, acting as if nothing was the matter.  

“No time to dawdle Joel. Can’t keep the children waiting.”

Joel checked himself out in the mirror one more time. He was filling out his Santa outfit perfectly. Once he was set, he went back out into the mall walkways. Moving in a jovial manner, he waved at every child that crossed his path. The jolly man finally arrived at his workshop, ready to listen to all of the children’s Christmas wishes.

[rocketeer9595]

Brochella

Focusing half his attention on the road and the other half on his phone, Jerry ignored the beeps and honks of fellow drivers while haphazardly weaving his giant truck through the traffic as he attempted to type up a text.

"u still waitingat teh entrancse?" Jerry managed to make a somewhat coherent message. Within seconds the phone in his hand vibrated as he received a reply.

"Yeah. Let's meet by security. I'm on my way there."

"ok omw" Jerry wrote back, tossing his phone to the empty passenger seat as he focused his gaze back to the road.

Jerry was on his way to a music festival where he was to meet up with his buddies. They'd all been looking forward to the event for months. The only problem was that Jerry had promised to score them tickets and as he was right now, he was about to arrive empty handed. Each wave of tickets to the event had sold out within minutes so Jerry was forced to attempt to haggle with scalpers he found online, but every single one he reached out to asked for ridiculous prices, definitely more than what he could afford.

Jerry had nearly given up hope in attending, until the day before he stumbled across a post on Craigslist from a guy named Charlie. Charlie had supposedly planned on attending the festival with his own group of friends but a series of last minute cancellations meant having to quickly get rid of several tickets without having money go to waste. That resulted in having to sell them at a somewhat reasonable price, and luckily Jerry was quick enough to reach out to where Charlie had agreed to hold the tickets for him.

Jerry eventually reached the parking lot of the venue. He combed through the lot until he found some empty spaces, but as he got closer he’d find that some guys had set up chairs and were holding those coveted parking spaces. Jerry was about to blow a gasket as that was the only free space he’d been able to find. Pulling up to the guys, Jerry’s rage turned to relief as he identified the men as his buddies.

Jerry rolled down his window. “Fuckers." He greeted the guys. "I was about to come beat your asses." He teased. "Let me park here."

The guys moved their things, allowing Jerry to park his truck.

"So did you get them?" One of the men asked.

"Don't tell us you made us come all the way here for nothing." Another one joined in.

"Chill the fuck out. I'm supposed to meet the guy here." Jerry tried to reassure the group. "He said he'd hold 'em for me."

"Just make sure they're legit."

"Yeah, I don't wanna be caught with fakes."

"If they end up being bogus, you're gonna pay me back what I gave you."

The guys chimed in, expressing their concerns about the possibility of being scammed out of their money.

"I won't let the dude out of my sight until I know they're good." Jerry checked his pockets, making sure he had the cash with him. "Wait here, I'll be back in a bit."

Jerry headed out and walked towards the entrance to the venue, looking for the spot where he was supposed to meet with Charlie. Passing by crowds of festival goers, he'd notice that several of them had fluorescent green wristbands on, possibly something he figured came with the tickets allowing people to enter and leave the festival grounds. Eventually, Jerry arrived at a tent near the entrance with a sign that read "SECURITY." He pulled out his phone, texting Charlie to let him know that he was at their meet up spot.

Almost ten minutes had passed and Jerry still had not received a response. He had begun to think that Charlie had sold the tickets to someone else. That he had been screwed over by this guy. Pulling out his phone to text Charlie again, Jerry felt a slight tapping on his shoulder.

"Would you be Jerry by any chance?"

Jerry turned around to face the person, immediately noticing a man standing besides him. He looked the guy up and down, blonde, no taller than 5'10'' but moderately built with a slender figure. Jerry realized who it was, taking note that if there was any shady business, he'd be more than capable of dealing with the guy himself.

"Yeah that's me. You're Charlie?"

"Yup! Sorry for taking so long." Charlie held his phone up. "I was rushing to get here, just saw your text as I was running over."

"No worries." Jerry paused for a moment as an awkward silence filled the air between them. "So, uh, you got the tickets?"

"Oh.. yes, yes!" Charlie pulled out a manilla folder from the backpack he had been carrying, opening it up and checking its contents, making sure everything was there. "There's four day-passes in here."

Charlie handed the folder over to Jerry who quickly glanced inside the folder to make sure he was getting what he was paying for. "Ok, looks like everything's here." Jerry grinned, passing the envelope of cash to Charlie. "Pleasure doin' business."

Charlie counted the money as he smiled back. "Likewise. Hope you have fun." Once he made sure he had the payment in full, he placed the envelope in his bag. "I'm assuming you're attending with some friends?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah. Some guys I've known for some years. They've been houndin' me non-stop about getting tickets, so thanks again." Jerry reached inside the folder and pulled out a ticket, noticing that each one had come with a colored wristband. What peaked his interest however was the color of the wristbands.

"Hey, is there a reason these are yellow?" Jerry held out the fluorescent neon yellow-colored wristband in front of Charlie. "Every other one I've seen people wear are green."

"Oh? These are VIP passes." Charlie smiled. "They let you get closer to the stages, discounts on food and merch, among other things. I thought I had told you that, I'm sorry."

"Oh shit, really?!" Jerry said excitedly.

"Yeah, I really needed to sell them ASAP though. That's why you got them at the price we agreed on. So consider yourself lucky." He laughed. "Here, let me put it on you. Those things are tricky to put on by yourself." Charlie volunteered to put the wristband on Jerry while Jerry was still too stoked to really say anything about it.

"There we go. They're a little tight, sorry, but your arms are kinda huge." He laughed again.

Jerry held out the wristband in front of him. There was a hint of a sheen to it when hit by the lights but he thought nothing of it.

"So I guess I'll see you around. Thanks again for taking these off of me. I really appreciate it." Charlie waved goodbye as he headed off, eventually getting lost in the crowd. Now alone, Jerry took out his phone and texted his boys that he was coming back with a surprise.

As Jerry left the security tent and began walking in the direction of where his friends were waiting, he immediately felt a strong rumbling in his stomach. "Jesus Christ." Noticing a row of porta-potties off to the side, he beelined it straight to the first available one.

Entering the cramped space, the aching feeling in Jerry's stomach quickly subsided. Instead, what caught his attention was the wristband he had just put on. There was a shine emanating from it which he thought was strange considering he was now indoors and there were no lights to reflect off of it.

Suddenly, the space around him began to spin, and Jerry felt a strange sensation coursing through his body, originating from the wristband. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but then he realized that something was indeed happening to him.

Jerry looked down at his hands and saw them start to shrink and change shape. His thick, muscular arms grew thinner and leaner, and his broad chest began to narrow, causing the tank top he had been wearing to become much more loose fitting, eventually just coming off completely. The slight beer gut he sported suddenly disappeared, as his midsection flattened, revealing rows of abdominals. His monstrous legs followed suit, with his thighs losing most of their mass, becoming slender but leaving him with a tight and rotund bubble butt. He would lose a few inches of height as well, his domineering 6'3'' stature replaced with a more average 5'9''. While still remaining muscular and retaining an athletic build, Jerry found himself with a much more slender and toned physique.

Jerry's body hair soon receded into his skin. The hairy beast found his shoulders, arms, and back smooth and hairless. A tasteful amount of chest chair remained as well as a happy trail leading down towards his groin.

One of the biggest changes to follow would be the loss of what Jerry probably considered his pride and joy. His disheveled beard receded back into his face, leaving him with short, black stubble but keeping a thick mustache while revealing a much more defined jawline. His face in general was now narrow and much more refined.

The transformation seemed to go on forever, but eventually, it slowed down and stopped. The big, brutish guy was now a completely different person, unrecognizable from his former self. Jerry felt himself up, his hands running up and down his new body, becoming slightly aroused as he became familiar with every single change that occurred.

Despite the initial shock of the transformation, he found himself feeling surprisingly comfortable in his new body. Unbeknownst to him, memories of his past life were in the process of being rewritten. Gone were the days where he played college football with the boys, drank himself under the table, and hit on any women with an impressive set of knockers. Instead, a life of gymnastics and dance, Sunday brunches, and nights out at gay clubs came rushing in.

Jerry stepped out of the porta-pottie, still in somewhat of a daze. He had an inkling that he was supposed to meet someone, but wasn't quite sure who.

"Hey! Over here!" A voice yelled out from the distance, catching the newly transformed man's attention. Jerry turned around, catching a glimpse of the person calling for him. As soon as he saw their face, something immediately clicked in his head.

"Charlie!" Speaking in a much higher-pitched voice, Jerry recognized the man as the very same one from earlier. This time however, they weren't meeting as strangers. Jerry recalled a whole life's worth of memories with Charlie.

"Babe, I turn around for one second and you go disappearing on me." Charlie approached Jerry, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Had to go freshen up. Sorry, wasn't aware my boyfriend needed to know my location at all times." Jerry pouted as he put his arm on Charlie, getting ready to lean in for another kiss.

"Oh, you know I go crazy without you." Charlie leaned in as well, with the two men sharing a long, sensual kiss.

"So you ready?" Jerry pulled away. "Got some douchebags on stand by for these tickets. Let's not keep them waiting."

[rocketeer9595]

The Mask

Music blasted from the speakers of the car as Tyler drove down the empty streets of the city. Tyler had just finished his shift from work and he was all but eager to go home and drown out the day with a beer or two. He worked for a construction company so the work always left him drained by the shift’s end but this day was especially exhausting, both in a physical and mental sense. To put it short, Tyler was frustrated by his boss’s strict deadlines and his fellow coworkers’ laziness which always left him doing a majority of the work.

Thankfully it was a Friday meaning a full weekend of relaxation and fun before the cycle reset and it was back to the daily grind. Tyler was very much looking forward to a simple night in to recharge and then spend the rest of the weekend doing whatever activities his girlfriend had planned for them.

The following Monday was Halloween and with his girlfriend being very much into the spooky holiday, she had come up with all sorts of things for them to do much to Tyler’s annoyance. He never liked how extra she’d be. Their apartment was filled to the brim with Halloween decorations. Every movie night for the month would be a different horror movie, even if they’d seen it a million times before. And to top it off, she’d go overboard with her costume, sometimes even spending hundreds of dollars crafting her own outfit that she’d only wear that one night.

Tyler tried to not let it bother him too much. He did enjoy some of the aspects of the holiday. And as long as he didn’t have to think about work, that’d be good enough for him. Tyler continued to drive home, eventually hitting a red light. His phone soon started lighting up with notifications.

Hey. Just wanted to remind you about Hailey and Matty’s party today.

I hope you didn’t forget lol

I’m going with nat so I’ll meet you there

And remember that it’s a halloween party so don’t be lame and come with a costume

“You gotta be fucking kidding me, that was today?!” Tyler said out loud to himself as he realized that his plans for the night had just been thrown out the window. He messaged back a quick “Ok” before turning his attention back to the road.

Tyler grumbled to himself as he continued driving. As much as he liked partaking in some of the festivities associated with Halloween, the idea of wearing a costume felt completely juvenile. Nearing almost thirty years old, Tyler felt like the concept was beneath him. But not wanting to disappoint his girlfriend and trying to avoid what would certainly be another fight, he swallowed his pride and searched for costume stores on his phone as soon as he hit another light.

It was not long until Google Maps redirected Tyler to the closest store. To his surprise, there was one directly on the way home. He did find it strange that he had never noticed it on his commute to and from work every day. Before he knew it though, he was already pulling up to the parking lot.

Stepping inside, he found it filled with all kinds of costumes, accessories and typical Halloween decorations. The odd thing was that it was entirely void of customers. The only person Tyler noticed as he entered was an older gentleman sitting at the check out counter reading a magazine. The man, taking an interest in Tyler, walked over to him and welcomed him to his store.

“Welcome to Gerard’s Costume Emporium.” The man jubilantly greeted Tyler. “My name is Gerard of course, if you need any assistance please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Will do, thanks.” Replied Tyler as he looked the man up and down who despite looking to be in his mid forties appeared to be in extremely good shape with the way his muscles bulged out of his clothes.

“I take it you own the place. This place is not as packed as I thought it’d be, being the day before Halloween after all.” Tyler said, questioning the lack of fellow patrons in the store.

“I opened the store just a few weeks ago. Been worried more about setting up rather than advertising I guess. But business comes and goes. It’s what I love about owning and working at a place like this.” Gerard replied. “I get to do whatever the hell I want and even if it gets busy, I know that things will eventually settle down and I get to relax from time to time.”

“That must be nice.” Tyler said, the thought of work still lingering in his head.

"Yeah, but enough about me. Feel free to look around. I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll like.”

Tyler took the man’s offer and surveyed the aisles of the stores, looking for a costume he deemed suitable.

Despite the variety in selection, Tyler found it difficult to find something he liked that was in his size. Everything was either for women, children, or not to his taste. After searching for a while, Tyler grew frustrated at not being able to find even an iota of a suitable costume he could wear. He eventually took out his phone and started texting his girlfriend.

Babe I can’t find anything at this store

Like there’s literally nothing here for me

Im just gonna show up with what I’m wearing hope that’s ok

Seconds later, his girlfriend responded.

You better not come wearing some plain ass clothes

Omg at least get a mask or something

Tyler rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s response, something which Gerard took notice off as he began to approach the frustrated-looking man.

“Is everything going okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tyler answered back as he scanned the entire store before finding what he was looking for.

Tyler walked over to a wall at one end of the store. The entire wall was covered with displays of various types of masks. Tyler carefully studied all of them, trying to pick out the best one, but with so many to choose from it was hard for him to make a decision. As a result, he called Gerard over for an opinion.

“You got a recommendation?” Tyler asked.

“Hmm. Let’s see.” Gerard scanned the wall of masks. “What about one of those Scream masks? Can’t go wrong with a classic!”

“You're right.” Tyler pondered for a moment. “But it feels a bit basic, no? Got anything more inspired?”

Tyler didn’t realize how quickly his apathy towards wearing a costume turned into genuine interest.

Gerard thought to himself, giving Tyler a quick look over and then smirking.

“I do have something in the back I can have you take a look at.” Gerard proceeded to walk towards the back room as he continued talking. “It’s not really Halloween related which is why I didn’t have it out, but I think it would suit you well and it’ll get the job done.”

Gerard came back with a small bag. “Have a look at this.”

Tyler opened up the bag and pulled out a pretty colorful luchador mask. It was primarily blue with white outlines and red stylized eagles going down each side. Above the eye holes also sat a red cross.

“What do you think?” Gerard asked.

Tyler stared at the mask. Memories of his childhood came flashing back to him. “Not gonna lie, it’s pretty cool.” He remembered spending Saturday nights watching wrestling on TV with his dad. The feeling of nostalgia hit hard. “How much for it?”

“I’d normally sell it for $40, but for you I’ll mark it down to $20.” Gerard said. “But let’s try it on first before deciding on anything. These kinds of masks need  to be properly laced up so that they’re not too loose.”

“That’s true.” Tyler agreed with Gerard as he handed the mask back. Gerard then proceeded to walk him towards one of the dressing rooms adorned with a full length mirror.

Taking the mask, he loosened up the laces on the back to allow the hole to open wide enough. Standing behind Tyler, Gerard promptly adorned the mask on Tyler’s head, shifting it around so that the holes would align with Tyler’s eyes and mouth.

Tyler felt the lycra push against his skin and the curves of the mask followed the contours of his face but something didn’t quite feel right. 

“It feels a bit loose. You don’t think the mask’s a bit big for me?” Tyler shared his concerns with Gerard.

“You’ll grow into it. Don’t worry.” Gerard replied as he begun tightening the laces in the back, finishing by tying them into a solid knot.

Before Tyler had a chance to react to Gerard’s strange comment he began to feel a pulsing sensation emanating throughout his body. Starting at the head, going down his body and onto his legs, each pulse caused his muscles to tighten up. Every few seconds a pulse would traverse downwards before Tyler was eventually left completely immobilized. At this point, Tyler would figure out that the pulsing originated from the mask, but all he could do was stare at his reflection in the mirror. A sense of panic took over him, trying his best to move his arms to remove the mask, but it was all futile. He was helpless as he could see Gerard still standing behind him, grinning as he simply watched what was about to unfold.

The pulses would then begin to increase in intensity. With each pulse, his body would add pounds of mass. A combination of muscle and fat, his once lean body would begin to fill out more and more. The most drastic of these changes occurred to his arms and torso. The six-pack abs Tyler was never afraid to flaunt disappeared under a newly formed gut. His defined chest was transformed into a pair of meaty pecs while his shoulders broadened and his arms bulged from all the added muscle. 

Tyler continued to look at himself in the mirror, helpless to what was going on. The tattoos that ran down his right arm faded away and a light covering of hair grew along his chest and arms. At this point his body was almost unrecognizable but Tyler’s face underneath the mask remained unchanged. That was until the pulses emanating from the mask increased in intensity. 

His thin face started filling out, becoming pudgier and rounder. The mask no longer felt loose, but now fit tightly and properly on his head. The light stubble he sported thickened and darkened, covering the entirety of his lower face. Tyler could also feel his hair receding into his head as all that was left beneath the mask was a buzz cut. 

Tyler’s clothes had suddenly disintegrated and in their place emerged a spandex leotard, enveloping his body tightly and showcasing all the mass Tyler had accumulated within the past few minutes. The pulses soon stopped allowing Tyler to move again, but he continued to stand still, motionless.

Gerard appeared from behind Tyler, running his hand all across the man’s hulking body.

“Told you the mask was going to be a good fit.” Gerard whispered into Tyler’s ears. “Now let’s see what we’re working with.”

Gerard begun untying the knots in the back of the mask, loosening up the laces as Tyler stood still, still in a trance-like state. The mask eventually came off, revealing the face of a completely different man than the one who originally put it on.

With the mask off, the haziness in Tyler's head dissipated and he finally started coming to. He looked at Gerard, a sense of familiarity overcoming Tyler as if he'd known the man standing before him. Known him for a long time actually. Then it clicked. Gerard was his husband.

"You doing ok, babe?" Gerard asked, knowing exactly what he'd just done to the man.

"Yeah, yeah. Just spaced out for a bit." Tyler responded, his voice much gruffer than it used to be.

He looked around, his brain still making connections but ignoring the fact that he was wearing a wrestling leotard for whatever reason. Tyler then noticed the plethora of costumes and other halloween decorations spread around him. He remembered unloading them from their boxes after he and Gerard opened up the store several weeks ago. He remembered loving being a co-owner of his own business with his husband.

He had a good life. He was happily married to a man who loved him to the moon and back. He was his own boss, never really stressing about work, and even when things got difficult he had someone to help him shoulder the load. Tyler grabbed the man in front of him, pulling him closer as he kissed him passionately. The two embraced, rubbing their hands across each other's bodies.

"What if we closed shop early? Neither of us got anywhere we gotta be." Tyler suggested as Gerard just gave him a sly look.

[rocketeer9595]

Witness Protection

“Move aside.” A stern voice yelled out amongst a mob of people. 

“Everybody stand back.” Another one joined in.

Two authoritative figures, dressed in black suits, adorned in dark sunglasses, and built like trucks helped move people out of the way as though the front doors of the courthouse walked out a young man.

Jackson was an accomplished journalist. His impressive investigative work helped bring to light several of the shady activities that plagued the city of New York. He exposed corruption at the highest levels, reported on several scandals, and even aided in the exposé of a powerful businessman.

What would eventually top off his career though would be his work in infiltrating a drug ring and helping take down one of the biggest mobsters in the city. In fact, this day marked the end of the trial for the mob leader and with Jackson starring as the key witness, the Don was found guilty of all charges brought against him.

Jackson pushed his way through the crowd swarming in front of him. The flashing of cameras, microphones and recorders in his face and the constant questions from reporters and journalists nearly overwhelmed him. It was strange being on the other side of the camera, but he trudged on.

“Right this way.” One of the men in black led Jackson to a black SUV parked on the street by the side of the courthouse. Like vultures, the swarm of paparazzi and reporters followed him all the way to the car, prodding Jackson for a comment about the outcome of the case. 

“Anything to say about the verdict?”

“How much do you believe your testimony influenced the Jury’s decision?”

“Do you fear any sort of retaliation?”

Once Jackson and the two men got inside, the car drove off leaving the posse of inquirers behind. The last question lingered in Jackson’s thoughts however. He spent a considerable amount of time with the mob. He knew what he was getting himself into of course, but the reality of the situation was beginning to dawn on him. The group of people he infiltrated were not only violent, but extremely vindictive. And they would surely seek some form of vengeance against Jackson for what he did. 

For this reason he got in contact with the U.S. Marshals. He was hoping they would be able to offer him some sort of protection after all the dust from the case had settled.

The car ride seemed like it went on forever. Without so much as a peep being muttered, Jackson sat in silence as he sized up the two men who escorted him out of the courthouse. Both were huge, intimidating, and strangely stoic. He was pretty sure they could break him in half if they wanted to. The sudden screeching of tires then broke the silence as Jackson looked out the window, realizing that the car had stopped in front of a large building. A sign read out “United States Marshals - New York Office”.

Being escorted inside, Jackson would soon find himself sitting in what appeared to be a conference room. Left alone, Jackson sat in silence, twiddling his fingers as he looked around inquisitively.  It wouldn’t be long, however, until the door swung open and through it walked in an older-looking man. 

“So you’re the guy who took down the Don, huh?” The man questioned as he sat down across from Jackson. 

“Uhh, yes sir.” Jackson timidly responded.

“It took guts, what you did.” The man said, opening a folder with what appeared to contain files about the court case. “We’ve been trying to take him down for ages. So we at the U.S. Marshals are grateful.”

“I was hoping you’d be.” Jackson spoke up. “I know you guys are able to offer protection.”

The man looked up from his files. “Witness protection is what I’ve been told.”

“Yeah. I’m just afraid they’re gonna come after me.” Jackson pleaded.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” The man took out a stack of papers and tossed them in front of Jackson. “Fill these out and we’ll get you started in our Witness Protection Program.”

Jackson gleefully took the forms, reading them over while grabbing a pen from the table.

“Chances are we’ll relocate you to a small town or city in the Northwest. We’ll also take care of arranging your new identity.” The man continued. “New name, new occupation. But all that can be decided later.”

Upon hearing that last part, Jackson stopped what he was doing and looked over to the man.

“New occupation? You mean I can’t keep on being a journalist?” Jackson questioned. “That’s what I’ve spent most of my life doing. I can’t give that up.”

“We can’t risk you drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. You understand that’s the whole point of Witness Protection.” The man proceeded to inform Jackson. “You’re gonna have to settle with living a quiet life.”

“I don’t think that’s something I can do.” Jackson admitted. “I have to feel useful. I have to know I’m making a difference, you know? And the only way I know how to do that is by exposing all the shit doing on in the world.”

The man stared at Jackson for a moment before moving on to the file he had set down. Convinced by Jackson’s words, the yet unnamed man slapped the table and proceeded to get up. “Set those forms down and come with me.”

“Uhh, okay.” Jackson said, not knowing what was going on but happy that his words indeed had an affect on the man.

The man exited the room and with Jackson following closely in tow began to walk down the maze-like hallways of the building. After several minutes, the two reached the very end of a dimly lit hallway, the two standing in front of an unmarked door.

“You said you wanted to feel useful, then go right in.” The man nodded towards the door.

“Thank you.” A grateful Jackson opened the door to the room, turning back to look at the man who he’d never even gotten the name of. Despite not knowing what he was getting himself into, Jackson proceeded to enter nonetheless.

The room was completely empty and windowless. The walls were painted white with the only things one could focus on being a light illuminating the whole room and some vents near the ceiling. A confused Jackson questioned what was going on but before he even had a chance to turn around he heard the door he came through shut tight.

“What’s going on here?” Jackson attempted to open the door, turning the handle with all his might but the door remained shut.

“Hello?! Are you there?!” Jackson pounded at the door, but no answer came from the other side.

Suddenly Jackson would hear the sound of air flowing out of a vent. He’d turn around and see a reddish mist flow into the room, nearly engulfing it within seconds. “What the.. what is this??!”

The moment Jackson opened his mouth to speak, the mist entered his airways and filled his lungs almost immediately. Jackson violently coughed, gasping between each breath causing him to inhale even more of the mist. After a few minutes, the gas had stopped being pumped into the room, but it wasn’t long however until he began to feel its effects.

Jackson could feel his body temperature begin to rise. Radiating outwards from his core, he would soon feel like his skin was on fire with droplets of sweat running down his face. Smothered by the layers of clothing he had worn to the court hearing earlier, Jackson began to undress in a feeble attempt to cool down. Now standing only in his underwear, Jackson hoped that the effects of the mist would subside, but in fact it was only the beginning.

All the muscles on Jackson’s body would soon begin to ache, as if they were tearing themselves apart and healing within microseconds. Jackson could feel himself become bulkier, growing taller. Looking at his hands, his delicate and dainty fingers which he used to type all day became rough and callused, becoming more adept for a blue collar lifestyle. His attention then focused up his arms. His previously lanky forearms became toned as his veins were much more clearly visible. And while his biceps and triceps were nothing to scoff at before, they had now ballooned to the size of his head. Jackson felt them up as they were hard to the touch while still emanating a sizzling heat.

His upper torso was next as his previously flat chest was replaced by a firm yet squeezable set of pecs. Jackson would take the opportunity to feel them up himself, feeling how meaty they felt when relaxed but how rock solid they’d turn when flexed. His hands would go further south passing by the rows of newly formed abdominals until they reached down to his lower body. 

His quads had nearly doubled in mass, now capable of crushing anything that got between them. His ass adding mass as well while still becoming firm. One could easily bounce a quarter off it. Jackson would then feel his underwear become tight at the front. His previous six inch little guy expanded into a 9 inch love sausage. The rush of hormones circulated throughout. After all these changes to his body, Jackson could begin to feel himself cool off. A relief, all things considered.

The process was far from over, unfortunately. All the heat instead moved on to his face where Jackson would begin to feel as if his facial features were rearranging themselves. His styled and quiffed hair receded into his scalp, his hairline moving back giving Jackson a shaved appearance. The stubble he kept trimmed and clean formed a goatee around his mouth, all his remaining hair turning black in the process. His eyes, blue as the ocean, turned into a dark brown. His brow became slightly furrowed, his straight nose becoming wider, and his lips becoming more plump and fuller. The biggest change of all came when Jackson reached towards his changing face, he noticed his pale, white skin becoming darker by the second. Eventually his whole body retaining the complexion of an African-American man.

Finally, the transformation was complete. A well-dressed journalist entered the room, but now all that remained was an adonis-like, half naked Goliath. Drips of sweat were still running down Jackson’s new body. He was still too stunned to speak but in his heart of hearts, he liked what he saw.

The door to the room then swung open with the man from before casually walking in. “Quite the transformation, huh?”

“What did you do? Why am I like this?” Jackson spoke, his voice now several octaves lower.

“We gave you what you wanted.” The man replied. “Now you don’t have to worry about going into hiding.”

Jackson continued feeling up his new body as the man kept talking.

“The mist is a new technology we’ve developed. It lets us hide our valuable assets in plain sight. You should know we don’t offer it to just anyone.”

“Is this.. permanent?” Jackson asked. “It will wear off after a while if you don’t keep being exposed to the mist. Enough exposures though and it can become permanent.”

Jackson thought about his situation, his head flooded with so many emotions and feelings about what had just transpired. He then gets handed a file by the man.

“If you ask me, I say you leave your previous identity behind. Jackson’s a wanted man. He’ll truly never know peace as he goes through the rest of his days continuously watching his back, sleeping with one eye open.”

Jackson proceeded to open the file, immediately revealing a picture of his new self along with other kinds of biographical information.

“This new identity however, Darrell Williams, gets to start life anew. He gets to work as a U.S. Marshall, serving our country out of our New Orleans branch in Louisiana. Not serving in a way you’re accustomed to, but you’d still be out there making a difference.” The man cracks a smile. “So Jackson, what will it be?”

…

“The name’s Darrell.” He shuts the file and proceeds to walk out of the room with the man.

[rocketeer9595]

Tourist Trap

Taking in the radiant Mediterranean sun, Lucas fiddled with his phone as he slouched further down on the comfy lounge chair he laid on. Every now and then he’d take a sip of his refreshing piña colada. This beach resort, situated along the Spanish coast, was the last stop on his European sponsored trip. Being a travel blogger after all, Lucas was given extravagant and luxury trips for little to no cost at all. All he had to do was promote whichever company was sponsoring him on his social media pages. And considering the amount of followers he had, these trips were a dime a dozen.

This marked his final day on the European continent before he flew back to the States. Trying to enjoy all the amenities he was provided and attempting to relax before his long flight home, Lucas still diligently scrolled through all the photos he had taken on his phone. While his job as an influencer might seem like the easiest thing ever, Lucas took it very seriously as he painstakingly reviewed every photo before deciding on the ones he’d use on his sponsored post.

Satisfied with the choices he made, Lucas put his phone away and took in the view. It was a sunny day with no cloud in sight. The glistening waters reflected the sun’s rays and in the distance Lucas could see several boats floating by. Going to take another sip of his drink, he realized that he had finished it already. Wanting to relax a bit more before eventually turning in, Lucas headed off towards the bar at the resort he was staying at.

“Hola, otra bebida por favor.” With an American accent, Lucas used whatever limited Spanish he had at his disposal.

A man working the other side of the counter turned around. He was a burly man with a heavy build. A little shorter than average. He donned straw hat with a open buttoned shirt, revealing his hairy chest for all to see. What immediately caught the eye though was his thick and bushy mustache.

“Buenas tardes compadre. No worries, we all speak English here.” The man said with the hint of a Spanish accent.

“Oh.” Lucas said, somewhat relieved. “Can I get another piña colada?”

“Sure thing.” The man replied as he began to start making the drink. “Enjoying your vacation?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s been pretty fun so far.” Lucas replied, not expecting to be making conversation. “It’s very beautiful here.”

“It’s one of España’s hidden treasures. We don’t get too many tourists here actually.” The man continued to talk as he prepared the drink. “What made you come here?”

Lucas looked at the man hesitantly.

“Oh sorry, I don’t mean to pry.” The man apologized. “My name is Hector by the way.”

“Hello Hector, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lucas. And that’s okay, no worries.” Lucas and Hector both shook hands as they introduced each other. “I’m actually here for work.”

“Oh really?” Hector said inquisitively.

“Yeah, I get trips like these pretty much for free. All I gotta do is promote the company on my social media pages. This resort actually contacted me and offered a stay at some of their locations in Spain, France, and Italy.”

“That’s amazing!”

“It’s a pretty sweet gig.” Lucas said humbly.

Hector then handed him the drink. As Lucas was about to take it and walk back to his lounge chair, Hector proceeded to ask more about his job.

“So I take it you’ve been able to visit many places?”

“Umm, yeah..” Lucas replied. “Europe and Asia mostly.”

“Oh wow, and what do you have planned next?”

Knowing he wasn’t going anywhere, Lucas sat down at the bar. “Well I don’t have any arrangements at the moment. I have a flight home tomorrow.” He thought for a moment. “Although, I have been chatting with a travel agency from South America. If I can land them as a sponsor, I bet I could nab some pretty sweet trips.”

“Oh, so you’re leaving tomorrow?” Hector said in a dejected tone. “Let me whip you up a special something!”

Hector rushed to the backroom of the small bar he was attending.

“Oh, there’s really no need!” Lucas yelled out, trying to make sure the man had heard him.

“Consider it a complementary drink from the hotel.” Hector walked back in with several supplies in hand.

“Well, technically, every drink is complementary. That was included in the package.” Lucas tried to correct him.

“Then consider it a complementary drink from me, amigo!”

Hector proceeded to quickly slice several pieces of fruit before putting it all inside a clear glass pitcher. He then poured a red liquid and mixed it all together. From the smell, Lucas could figure out that Hector had made Sangria. He then poured a drink for the both of them.

“Cheers!” Hector said loudly as he clinked his glass against Lucas’s. Hesitant about drinking it at first, Lucas let himself enjoy it after watching Hector down his drink in a single gulp.

“It’s actually pretty good. But I gotta get going. Thanks again Hector.” Lucas waved goodbye as he headed back to his spot at the beach.

“Hope to see you again!” Hector said jubilantly.

Shortly after making his way back Lucas once again looked at all the pictures of his travels, making any last minute adjustments. He suddenly began to feel tired and after a short while was extremely exhausted. Taking this as his cue, Lucas finally decided to call it a night and headed back to his hotel room for a proper night’s rest before his long flight home.

Waking up to the sound of an alarm, Lucas woke up for the day feeling strange. Feeling as if he had been hit by a truck, he found it difficult to get out of bed. His vision also felt obscured. He had some drinks the night before, but Lucas made sure not to overdo it. But everything felt like the symptoms of a hangover. Feeling a heaviness about him, Lucas trudged out of bed. Disoriented, he took a few steps forward before noticing something peculiar.

The layout of the room he was in was different. He was staying in a large suite with a queen sized bed. But this room had two twin sized beds instead. The decor remained the same though, making Lucas think that he maybe had gone partying the night before and had gotten pretty drunk. Identifying where the bathroom was, he beelined towards it, turning on the faucet and splashing his face with cold water. Lucas looked at his reflection, doing a double take as he was still feeling very groggy.

Staring back at him in the mirror was the faint outline of someone he found familiar. Thinking he was just seeing things, Lucas rubbed his eyes, but once his vision finally became clear the severity of his situation finally donned upon him. Someway, somehow, Lucas had woken up in the body of his friend from yesterday, Hector.

Lucas ran his hands across his new body. Moving past his gut, his fingers grazed through the dense forest of hair on his chest before eventually settling on his face, finally noticing his thick mustache tickling his upper lip. His face was no longer sleek and sharp, but now round and heavy. His brown hair was also no more, instead replaced by a shaved head. Overall, he looked plump, almost chubby, but there was still plenty of muscle underneath it all.

A sense of panic overcame Lucas as he could not understand why this had happened. He needed answers, and he needed them now. The only way of doing so was to find Hector. Stepping out of the room he had awoken in, he moved as fast as his new body would let him until he reached the room he was staying in. However, instead of any sign of Hector he’d find a housekeeper cleaning the room.

“Hola señora. ¿Sabes dónde esta el chavo que se quedó en este cuarto?” In the rush of it all, Lucas didn’t even notice he had just spoken fluent Spanish as he asked the woman where the person who was staying in the room went.

“Nó.” Replied the woman as she shook her head.

Lucas’s next inclination was to go to the bar. At this point it was his only option left. As soon as he made his way there, yet again there was no sign of Hector. Lucas slammed his fists against the counter in a fit of rage and hopelessness but then noticed a phone along with what appeared to be a note on the other side of the bar.

“Hola amigo. I’m sorry that things had to go this way. But after hearing you talk about your life and listening to your many stories about your travels, I knew I needed to experience that too. This resort is beautiful, but it’s all I’ve known and it probably will be all I’ll ever know. Or at least it would have been. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your body and return it safe and sound once I’ve had my fun. Not sure how long, but I promise the day will come. The phone should have everything you’ll need to get by.”

Lucas stops reading and takes the phone, grappling it hard in his hand. The face recognition activates, causing the phone to unlock and what appears to be Hector’s social media pages pop up. 

Lukas continues reading as he swipes through the pictures. “And it’s not like you got a shabby body in return. Despite my age, I still take care of that thing. Keep it that way. -Hector”. Lucas pauses on the last picture as he sets the note down, still trying to process everything that happened.

[rocketeer9595]

Anchorman

“Coming up later will be Susan Fields, author of New York Time’s best selling book, “Finding Your Inner Self”, the story of a woman who traveled around the world only to find out that her inner Goddess was hiding inside all along.”

Eddie didn’t even think twice before reading aloud the words appearing on the teleprompter. He simply went about his daily routine, working as an anchorman for one of the city’s biggest networks.

“But as soon as we come back from the break, get ready for something a bit raunchy as I talk to adult entertainer, Maxxim Rodovsky, about his upcoming Netflix documentary. We’ll see you back here in just a moment.”

“Three minute break!” A production assistant yelled out as he quickly darted across the set. Eddie took a deep breath as he hunched over in his chair, taking out his phone and scrolling past his feed before deciding to open up the Camera app.

After making sure his hair still looked ok, Eddie put the phone back in his pocket before going over his notes about his upcoming interview. Reading over his list of topics, the newsman could only sigh as he read over all the things his producer had prepared for him to ask during the interview..

All these years spent earning his journalism degree and the amount of hard work he did to move up the ladder within his news network only to be doing ridiculous fluff pieces nobody even watched. Viewership during his segments was amongst the lowest during the broadcast and Eddie definitely felt like he deserved to be doing something more meaningful, something more impactful.

The hard hitting interviews, on location news reports, that’s what he wanted to cover. Things that got people watching and engaged.

While Eddie stewed in his own head, he didn’t even notice the set change in front of him to accommodate the guest he was about to interview. An Adonis of a man walked in his direction. Adorning a pair of faded blue jeans and a white tank top, the man approached Eddie and stretched out his hand.

“Hello, I’m Maxxim, thanks again for having me.”

Snapping out of his own thoughts, Eddie greeted the man, shaking his hand and feeling the absolute strength as Maxxim followed through with a firm handshake.

“To be honest, not many stations agreed to hold an interview. A lot of them aren’t as progressive I guess.” Maxxim commented as all Eddie could do is give a head nod as he arranged his notes together.

“Going back live in 5… 4…. 3…. 2….” Counted down the producer before finally pointing towards Eddie, indicating that the show was now back live.

“Welcome back everyone.” said Eddie, reading off the teleprompter again. “Now we got something real special for you all. Next to me is the star of Netflix’s upcoming docuseries, telling the story of a man at the height of a highly prestigious career who decided to leave it all to pursue a life as an adult film star.” Eddie couldn’t believe the words he was saying as he turned to his side. “Maxxim Rodovsky, happy to have you here.”

“Happy to be here.” Said Maxxim.

“So Maxxim, I think the question everybody wants to ask is “Why?” Why leave the life you had to go into something like adult films?” Eddie asks.

“Well, before all this I used to work as a lawyer in a big and fancy firm. Day in and day out I’d spend all day in a cramped office in a stuffy suit, talking to probably the most boring and uninteresting people in the world.”

“But I’m sure it also had its benefits.” Eddie interjected, going off script while receiving a confused look by his producer.

“Yeah, the salary and the stability was fine. But you lose yourself in a soul sucking job like that. Now I get to be the one doing the sucking.” Maxxim gives Eddie a wink as he delivers the last line. “Plus I get to travel all over the place, meet a lot of different and interesting people, and I’d say you reach a much larger audience than by doing anything else.”

The last few words echoed in Eddie’s head. How could someone with an undignified job as a fucking porn star be a lot happier and much better off than him.

The teleprompter displayed the next question Eddie was to ask, but he instead just ignored it as he was in his own little world. He felt a few little taps on his arm and noticed that Maxxim had been trying to get his attention. Suddenly, everything began to get a lot brighter, as if every light in the studio was turned on to max brightness and were all pointed at him. The intensity of the lights forced him to keep his eyes shut tight.

“Haha, real funny.” Eddie thought to himself, thinking this was his producer’s way of getting back at him for going off script.

Eddie would then inexplicably feel his bare skin exposed as the nice suit he had been wearing suddenly disappeared. In its place, a thin and sleeveless denim jacket alongside a pair of white Colt underwear would be the only things keeping him covered.

Eddie was already a very handsome man, he kept himself in great shape so he was definitely not ashamed of showing a bit of skin every once in a while. However, this was his workplace and whatever kind of prank this was he wasn’t laughing. He would soon learn that this was not some kind of practical joke.

Despite being blinded by the lights, Eddie could feel his body undergo numerous changes. He would feel heavier as his lean body would begin packing pounds of muscle. The biceps and triceps in his arms swelled up, growing to a size he never thought imaginable. The muscles in his forearms grew to match with thick vascular veins pushing up against his skin. His previously thin fingers became thicker as his smooth hands became more rough and calloused.

His upper body was next as his torso expanded, with his pecs filling up like balloons as they filled out the denim jacket. His abs bulging outwards. Eddie was known to shave his chest, leaving the skin smooth and bare, but long, black hairs suddenly grew across his entire torso, covering his whole chest and stomach in a layer of hair.

Eddie’s slim legs almost doubled in size, creating a pair of powerful thighs while his ass became much more rotund, filling in the new pair of underwear he found himself in. Along the crotch, Eddie could feel the fabric stretch to it’s absolute limit as his new and improved member grew to a mouthwatering 9 inches.

The final of these changes were concentrated on his head. The light brown hair Eddie had turned coal black. His beard followed suit. The hair around his upper lip, however, thickened and grew longer forming a rather impressive mustache. His face in general appeared much more masculine. Soon, the blinding lights started to dim, revealing the gargantuan man standing in Eddie’s place.

As the lights dimmed, Eddie opened his eyes and it became apparent that he wasn’t in the studio anymore. He was standing in the middle of a bedroom with what appeared to be an amateur filming set up. A camcorder on a tripod with a few ring lights set up pointing in his direction. Eddie then felt a familiar tap on his much broader shoulder.

“Hey Ed, you ready?” Maxxim suddenly appeared besides him. “We have a flight tomorrow morning for Amsterdam. So we gotta get this done quick.” Using a remote he started the camcorder, with a blinking red right indicating the recording had begun.

Without being able to say a word, Maxxin threw his arms around Eddie, removing the denim jacket and immediately giving Eddie a kiss on the lips. Despite being taken aback, Eddie let himself fall into the kiss, unbeknownst to him his memories were being rewritten in the process.

After dropping out of college, Eddie remembered pursuing a career in the adult film industry. He got in better shape than ever and was able to meet many different and interesting people. Not only that but he got to travel all over the world as a result. All the fucking wasn’t so bad either.

“Everything ok?” Maxxim whispered.

The new memories flooded Eddie’s head but after a moment he finally came to. Looking deeply into Maxxim’s eyes, he proceeded to use his incredible strength to throw him onto the bed and then removed both his and Maxxim’s tight fitting underwear. Eddie had completely settled into his new life, once thrust at a time.

[rocketeer9595]

Family Man

Scott sat sprawled out in the recliner he kept in his office while he and his coworker Bill had lunch together. A friendly conversation occurs between the two when Scott’s cell phone starts going off. After several rings the call is left unanswered, going directly to voicemail as a pop up message displaying “Missed Call from Stacey” appeared on the screen.

“You’re not going to get that?” Bill asked.

“Nah. I just know she’s gonna start bitching at me again.” Scott replied. “We got into it again last night.”

“She’ll still going on about that?”

“The woman won’t drop it!” Scott said exacerbated. “Every time I come home she brings it up. She makes it seem like I purposely try to avoid them. That I don’t want to spend time with my own wife and kids.”

“That’s harsh.” Bill said, taking a bite out of his sandwich afterwards.

“Yeah. I now do my workout before work instead of after. I wake up a whole 90 minutes earlier than I used to just to be home by 6 and I think she still doesn’t appreciate it.”

“Well to be honest, you don’t have to take on all those extra projects. Do you really need all that extra overtime?” Bill attempts to play devil’s advocate. “Your project pile is starting to look a bit excessive.”

Bill turns over to look at Scott’s desk which is overflowing with folders upon folders of work projects.

“Dude, what the fuck. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Sorry, man. Just trying to give you some perspective. Maybe try to lighten your load.” Bill advices. “Then maybe you wouldn’t have to jump through all these hoops just to keep Stacey happy.”

“The thing you don’t get is that all that-” Scott points towards his desk. “That’s our only source of income. Stacey doesn’t work, so the mortgage, our credit card bills, insurance, all that needs to be paid somehow.”

Both Scott and Bill turn silent for a moment as they begin packing up the lunch they had been eating.

“Trust me, if I could find a way to become “Mr. Stay-at-home Dad”, I would.”

“I feel ya.” Bill tries to reassure him. “Well, I gotta get going. Thanks again for lunch.”

“Don’t mention it.” Scott waves as Bill steps out, leaving him alone in his spacious office.

As soon as the door completely shuts, a queasy feeling starts to manifest itself within Scott. Thinking it’s just a bad reaction to the food, Scott attempts to walk it off. The feeling subdues for a moment, before eventually coming back more intense than before. Scott immediately doubles over, clutching his sides as he lays on the floor. Suddenly, the dress shirt and pants he had been wearing suddenly disappear, fading out of existence and leaving Scott only in his underwear as he continues to writhe on the floor.

While in this state, Scott’s body begins to undergo a series of changes. The bones in his limbs become more compact, resulting in him losing several inches in height, going from a desirable 6’3 to a rather average 5’9. He also begins losing definition from his well-toned body as years of work and dedication are undone in just a matter of seconds. It’s not too long though until layers of fat begin to build on top of parts of his body, giving Scott a more burly appearance.

The more notable changes occurred to his torso. His toned pectorals begin to sag somewhat as a light layer of fat accumulated on top. His gut extends forward as well, giving Scott a bit of a belly and covering up his rippled abs and obliques. To further complete his dad bod transformation, a mixture of brown and grey hairs begin to grow all over his mid-section and along his chest. The dense hair growth ends up almost covering his chest and stomach.

Scott’s face finally begins to change as well to better complement his new body. It becomes fuller as his narrow face broadens. His neck thickens while his jawline becomes obscured by a little extra mass, his cleft chin disappearing in the process. The short hair he sported lengthens, becoming wavy as it flows backwards while also turning a little darker in coloration with a few white hairs scattered here and there. And lastly, his short stubble recedes back into his skin, except for the hair lining his upper lip. Instead, the hairs become thicker as they form a nice mustache.

Now in a completely new body, Scott reorients himself as he gets off the floor. Unbeknownst to him, his surroundings had changed during his transformation as he now found himself inside his own home. It was a familiar sight but something felt off. It was then when Scott finally realized what had happened. Catching his reflection in one of the mirrors, he sees a hefty middle=aged man staring back at him. He observes himself, rubbing his hands along his extended gut, running his fingers through his wavy hair, and touching his mustache. Scott was seconds away from a full meltdown before he hears someone call out to him.

“Daddy!” A small boy runs towards him. “You were supposed to hide!”

“Does that mean I win?” Another small boy emerges from behind the curtains.

The sound of the two children suddenly triggers something within Scott. His past memories of his professional life, including the long shifts at work, coming home late, and constant bickering with his wife are replaced with fonder ones. Scott now only remembers the days spent at home with his children. Since the day they were born he’s always been by their side.

“Yes it does.” Scott says. “Looks like we have our hide and seek champion!” Scott runs to his children, picking them both up as they giggle joyously. Life for Scott has definitely gotten better since he quit his job to become a stay at home dad all those years ago.

[rocketeer9595]

The Interview

Cory stood in line at the coffee shop, scrolling between the different apps on his phone and messing with his tie at every chance he got. He was never one to get all dressed up, but he had a job interview coming up that day. He was definitely nervous and all the angst was beginning to show. The interview was for a position as a bartender at a night club and even though it wasn’t the most lavish of jobs, it was definitely a step up from where Cory found himself currently.

Finally getting his coffee to help calm his nerves, Cory snapped a selfie of himself, cracking a smile, and posted it on his Instagram. “Wish me luck! #interview”.

After finishing up, Cory made his way towards Russian Roulette, one of the hottest clubs in the city. Cory had heard from his friends that the tips alone were reason enough to apply. And he knew he was more than qualified for the job. He’d spent years working as a barista at coffee shops and a bartender at other local bars. All he had to do was nail the interview and the job was as good as his.

The problem, however, was that Cory was terrible at making good first impressions. He lacked the confidence required to let his amicable and charming self show. Instead he rambled on, losing his train of thought, and derailing the whole conversation before it ever had a chance to go somewhere.

Before he even realized Cory already found himself in front an imposing building. A large, neon sign with the words “Russian Roulette” sat atop of the main entrance. Two hulking men in black shirts with the club’s name stood at each end. The club wasn’t even open yet, so Cory thought about how strange it was that the bouncers were already at work. Cory approached one of the men, who did not even acknowledge his presence.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview.” Cory said shyly. The man said nothing as he opened the door for Cory, letting him go inside. Once through the front doors, Cory wandered throughout the building. Numerous men and women were walking about, working. Some were cleaning up from the night before. Others were loading in supplies from out back. Cory then finally saw the bar where he hoped he’d be working at soon.

A young, good looking man was standing behind the bar, seemingly doing inventory as he stood focused on some forms on his clipboard. Cory approached the man and explained that he was here to interview for a bartending position. The man stopped what he was doing and looked at Cory. 

“You’re Cory?” The man said in a thick Russian accent.

Cory nodded as the man told him to stay put while he went to get his manager. The man walked into another room where Cory noticed yet another bouncer standing guard. He definitely thought it was strange to have this many guys on site during closing hours. But before he had a chance to finish his thought, the manager waved for Cory to come on over.

“Hello, welcome Cory, come sit down. I’m sorry for all this mess.” The manager invited Cory in as he attempted to straighten out his desk from all the papers, folders, and other office supplies laying about. The man also spoke in an accent. “I’m Anatoly, the manager of the Russian Roulette. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well.” Cory replied, still trying to get over his nerves from before.

“So I am just going to ask you a few questions about the job.” Anatoly said as he sat down behind his desk, grabbing a pen and a few forms from his drawer. “Ok, so tell me Cory, why do you think you’re a good fit for our club.”

Cory took a second to think about his response before finally arriving at an answer. “Well I’m a very outgoing person. I love talking to people. I’m also the kind of person who can keep organized even while multitasking, which I think is something important for this position.”

“Ok, ok.” Anatoly wrote on the forms. “How well do you handle performing under pressure.”

“I like to think I excel at that.” Cory responded.

“Wonderful!” Anatoly’s eyes gleamed. “Let me give you a scenario and you tell me how you would respond.”

“Alright.” Cory listened intently.

“You have two guys fighting on the floor. They are drunk. They are throwing fists as you Americans would say. And it is just you. How do you break it up?”

The question somewhat confused Cory. Last time he checked, breaking up fights wasn’t one of the job duties of a bartender. Norway security would intervene. But Cory really wanted the position so he played along. “I guess I’d call for back up and try to separate them?”

“Have you ever been in a fight yourself?”

“Not like a bar fight, but I have taken taekwondo before.” Cory said, reassuring Anatoly that he wouldn’t at least be helpless in that situation.

“Interesting.” Said Anatoly. “Now tell me, Cory, do you have any kind of experience working security?”

“Security?” Cory was confused. “I’m sorry Mr. Anatoly, but I think you have the positions mixed up. I thought this was an interview for a bartending position.”

Anatoly stared at Cory for a second, looking him up and down. “Oh you’re right. My mistake. It appears I had the wrong forms.” Cory was relieved. In no way was he qualified to work as one of those bouncers so he was happy to see that everything was straightened out. Anatoly stepped out of his office and called to the bartender.

“получить напитки” He yelled out in Russian.

Moments later, the bartender stepped inside the office with a tray with three drinks. 

“These here are our three most popular drinks. All you have to do is tell me what each of them are and the job is yours.”

This couldn’t have been that simple. But the way Cory looked at Anatoly, he could tell that the club manager was dead serious. Cory took the first drink and sniffed it real quick. Without even taking a sip, he could tell from the strong smell that it was straight up vodka. He looked at Anatoly who was watching intently and took a drink. The liquid burned on its way down. And within a matter of seconds, Cory could already feel his body warm up. “This vodka is some strong stuff.”

“We only import the best Vodka from our homeland.” Anatoly said as he pushed the second drink towards Cory.

This one came in an old-fashioned glass. The drink was served with ice and was mostly white with a dark, brown-colored base. Pulling it up to his nose, Cory noted the smell of both alcohol and coffee. Taking a sip, the taste of vanilla cream became clear as day. “This is a vodka cocktail, White Russian?”

“Indeed.” Anatoly was pleased with his answer. He then pushed the last drink in his direction. This one was purely white and had no distinguishable smell. Cory took a small sip and besides the alcoholic after taste, he was unable to make out what it was. Worried he wouldn’t be able to figure it out, Cory consumed more and more of the drink, attempting to make out any discernible details. Before he even realized, he had already consumed it all. 

“I can make out the taste of milk. Maybe fermented milk? I really don’t know. This one is new to me. I’m sorry.” Cory had absolutely no idea what this drink was. He’d never had it before nor had he ever prepared anything like it.

“Give it a minute.” Anatoly reassured him. “This is a special drink that comes all the way from the Ukraine.”

All of a sudden, a memory started to form in Cory’s head. And with that came a single word. “Ryazhenka.” Cory said out loud, not knowing what it meant or how he even knew of it.

“Amazing! That is correct!” Anatoly stood up from his desk and approached a Cory. “You will fit in here quite well.”

Something didn’t sit well with Cory however. How strange was it that the name of the drink just appeared out of no where. It was such a foreign drink too. No way he ever would have guessed it like that. Cory continued to obsess over it until a faint memory started to manifest itself.

Growing up with the white, winter snow back in Soviet Russia. Spending hours upon hours at work in the factories years later only to attempt to forget the day away with bottles of Ryazhenka.

Cory started getting a feeling of homesickness. However, these were not his memories. He never lived through any of that. He was born and grew up in sunny California and he was barely a baby during the days of the Soviet Union. So none of this made any sense. The more Cory got caught up in his own head, the less he became aware of what was happening to him. Meanwhile, Anatoly just stood there, watching in contempt as he witnessed Cory begin to change in front of his very own eyes.

Cory started growing, his body stretching itself until he reached a height of 6’5. Meanwhile, his thin and lanky frame began accumulating pounds of muscle. A stupid amount at that. His biceps and triceps expanded, stretching out the seams of his dress shirt until the whole thing disintegrated into pieces of fabric. His thighs filled out his ironed pants. On Cory’s chest, his previously flat pecs ballooned to incredible sizes, perfectly complimenting the row of abs that bulged out more and more in his stomach. Once his body was done changing, his skin tone started to darken just a bit. His ghostly white skin turning a shade or two darker.

Finally came the changes to his face. Years of hard work and experience were added to his youthful complexion. Looking to be somewhere in his thirties, Cory’s demeanor also changed as his friendly face slowly turned more serious. The facial hair he had been sporting shortened into a tight stubble while his styled hair became a crew cut. 

Anatoly had been watching all this in silence. The man sitting in the chair nearly indistinguishable from the one who came in for the interview. 

“вставай” Anatoly said, appearing to snap Cory out of the trance he was in. “твоя смена скоро начнется.” He then goes on to toss a black shirt over to him, urging him to put it on as his shift is about to begin.

“да сэр” Cory, or Dmitri as he now called himself, replied back, speaking perfect Russian and his voice much deeper than before. He does as he’s told, putting on the cotton shirt as it stretches around his bulging body. On the front lies the club’s logo while Cyrillic letters in white font spelling “охрана” are etched across the back. 

[rocketeer9595]

Border Patrol

“Attention all units. We have a reports of a suspicious Hispanic male near the intersection of Aliante and Saint Rose. Possibly in possession of drug paraphernalia. Any available units please respond.”

A robotic woman’s voice spoke over the police radio. Two men donning police uniforms sitting in their patrol car listened intently. They’d been parked along the side of the road, watching for any speeding cars passing by. The man on the driver’s side looked at his partner and smiled.

“10-4. Unit 1-1-0-3 on their way.” The man talked into his radio. On his uniform the name “D. Owens” was embroidered on. “Looks like we got a drug bust on our hands. You up for it Gorski?”

“Beats sitting by the side of the road watching traffic.” Gorski sat up straight. “The call came in for a suspicious man though. I don’t think it’s gonna be all that exciting.”

The police car turned on and drove onto the road, the sirens on full blast as Owens weaved in between oncoming traffic.

“Nine times out of ten, a call like this ends with a shoot out between police and drug cartels.” Owens said through the noise from the siren. “I know you’re new to the area, but border towns like this are infamous for cartels and gangs smuggling drugs across the border.”

“Then let ICE deal with that shit.”

“Cant let them have all the fun.” Owens continued driving through the streets until the two officers finally arrived at the intersection that was previously reported. They got out of the car and immediately started to comb the area for any unusual activity.

Owens and Gorski turned the corner onto an alley way, suddenly coming across a group of men talking. The men were all Hispanic with shaved heads and tattoos all over their bodies. One of them in particular was carrying a backpack.

“Hey fellas, mind if I ask a few questions?” Owens yelled over to the men who all looked startled as the two officers approached them.

“¡Es la migra!” One of the men screamed causing everyone to quickly disperse and run away in every direction.

Officer Owens set his eyes on the man with the backpack and he mad dashed straight towards him. Gorski meanwhile focused his attention on the other guys, forcing Owens to yell over to him.

“Don’t worry about those guys! Can’t let this one get away.”

Owens continued in his pursuit as he chased the man through a series of narrow alleyways. The Hispanic man was fast, but Owens was easily able to keep up. After all, he was in tip top shape and held many coarse records back at the academy. The path eventually reached a dead end with the man looking frantic as he tried to figure a way out.

“Sorry ‘hombre’, but your time is up.” Owens taunted the man as he approached him, pulling out a set of handcuffs from his waist.

In a last ditch effort, the man suddenly rammed his body against a nearby door, busting it open as he fell onto the floor. Owens just watched on, seemingly impressed at the lengths the man was willing to go to escape.

Once inside what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse building, the man attempted to get back up but was forced onto the ground by Owens as he placed his knee on his back.

“This is the end of the line for you.” Owens commented to the man as he reached for his walkie. “Gorski, I got the guy. Need backu-“

Owens suddenly felt a heavy smack on the back of his head, causing him to fall over onto the hard concrete floor. Behind him stood another Hispanic looking man holding a piece of plywood in his hands. Unlike the other men, this one was donning a rather expensive looking suit.

“Ay wey, you really let this guy catch you like that.” The man spoke in a heavy Mexican accent as he went over to grab the backpack that had fallen on the floor.

“Sorry Cruz, but that thing weighs a fucking ton. You expect me to run with that.” The other man replied, getting off from the floor. Both men stared down at Owens as he went in an out of consciousness.

“You know what to do with him. Go get the others.” Cruz gave his orders as Owens laid helpless, feeling his feet getting tugged and his body dragged across the floor.

A sudden slap to the face eventually snapped Officer Owens back to reality. He looked around, noticing that he was still in the same warehouse but was now entirely surrounded by what appeared to be a whole gang of people. As soon as he got his bearings, Owens tried to move and reach out for his gun holstered on his waist, but quickly discovered that his hands were tied behind his back with zip ties. He also noticed Officer Gorski in the same position next to him.

“I hope you guys know the trouble all of you are gonna find yourselves in. Assaulting and detaining an officer is a serious crime under Penal Code 241.” Owens tried to talk his way out of the situation.

“Oh, I don’t think we’re gonna have to worry about that.” Cruz made his way through the group of men until he stood at the very front, facing both Owens and Gorski. “It helps when you have friends on the inside.”

“What?” Owens was confused. “No way we could have dirty cops.”

“Oh, but you soon will.” Replied Cruz. He snapped his fingers and the man with the backpack from before walked up.

“For years now, we’ve been having problems with our guys getting deported back across the border by you pigs. And being short on men isn’t good for business. So we’ve been workin on something very special.”

Owens and Gorski both looked at each other with worried expressions as Cruz reached into the backpack and took out what appeared to be a vial of red liquid.

“Get that one ready.” Cruz told his men as he poured the liquid into a plastic cup. His men meanwhile grabbed Officer Gorski, forcing him onto a chair as Cruz walked up to him slowly. “Drink up.”

Against his wishes, Cruz poured the drink into Gorski’s mouth through a funnel as he was held still by his men. Gorski appeared to be choking on the liquid as it was forced into him. Eventually, most of the drink made its way into the officer’s system. He panted heavily, his face dripping wet, and his signature twirly mustache soaked and stained red.

“Gorski, you okay?” Owens attempted to check on his partner as he sat unresponsive in the chair. “Hey, look at me.”

Gorski then felt his hands free up as the zip ties keeping them restrained were cut up by Cruz. In the flash of a second, Gorski was quick to pull his gun out on Cruz, much to the delight of Owens. However, that’s when the changes started to occur.

In front of his very own eyes, Owens saw his partner transform into someone else. Gorski’s tall 6’3 stature shrunk until he now stood at an unimpressive 5’9. His stocky build also decreased, replacing his hard earned muscles with thin and lanky appendages. His blue police uniform also shrunk to conform into his new physique. Then, his short, crew cut styled hair receded back into his head, giving him a shaved appearance reminiscent of most of the men they were surrounded by. His beard and mustache also disappeared, leaving Gorski with no facial hair whatsoever. And finally, his facial fractures restructured itself, giving him a more Latino appearance.

With his gun still pointed at Cruz, Gorski’s memories and experiences began to get replaced by new ones. He remembered growing up as the son to illegal immigrants. Joining the police force only to serve his fellow gang members. Gorski was gone, he only knew himself as Officer Escobar. Realizing he was pointing his gun at his boss, Escobar uncocked the gun and handed it over to Cruz.

“Alright, now it’s his turn.” Cruz turned his attention to Owens who had just witnessed his partner turn undergo a total transformation. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to him, so he desperately tried to free himself but to no avail. Escobar grabbed his former partner and forced him onto the chair, keeping his mouth open with the same funnel that was used on him. Cruz then poured the liquid as Owens was helpless but to let everything happen.

As soon as Owens had ingested the drink, he could already feel the changes begin to occur. Just like with Gorski, Owen’s height and size shrunk to that of a 5’8 skinny and thin man. His hair also receded back into his hairline, with his short stubble rearranging itself into a goatee. His blue eyes turned dark brown and his face also began to display a more Latino complexion. His police uniform then disappeared, being replaced by a simple white wife beater and loose fitting khakis. Finally, Owens could feel a burning sensation on his right arm as ink began to appear, becoming a series of tattoos.

Owens could slowly feel his memories fading away. New ones took their place. He remembers crossing the border several times, being caught each time until he finally got assisted by a drug cartel. The name ‘Owens’ also started to erase itself from his memory. Omar is what he called himself now.

Once the transformations were complete and Officer Owens and Officer Gorski were removed from existence, their counterparts stood up straight in front of Cruz, waiting for their next orders.

[rocketeer9595]

Career Change

Dominic fumbled with his keys as attempted to unlock the door to his apartment. It had been a long, grueling day at work and he wanted nothing more but to get cleaned up, unwind, and rest before he’d have to repeat it all over again the next day. Finally finding the correct key, he entered his barren-looking apartment consisting of plain, white walls with little to no decor. A cheap, worn out sofa and a 48’’ TV were the only things occupying the living room. For all the hard word he did at his job at the construction company, the pay was barely enough to cover his rent along with the child support he owed his ex. So that meant Dominic had to live a frugal life.

After a quick shower, Dominic put some food on the stove to cook and jumped on his laptop in order to find a movie to watch while he ate. Now because Dominic didn’t want to waste money on a subscription to a streaming site, he chose to watch his movies and tv shows on torrent sites instead. Once he had found what he wanted to watch on whatever sketchy website he stumbled upon, Dominic attempted to start the movie by clicking the play button. However, a well hidden pop up ad instead redirected him to a different site.

“CAM GUYS ONLINE - LIVE NOW - 10% OFF”

A flashing banner moved across the screen, promoting what appeared to men performing lewd acts on camera. Dominic didn’t blink twice at all the naked men in front of him, instead trying to close out of the window so he could get on with his movie. However each time he attempted to exit out, a new window would pop up. After trying several times, Dominic would wind up with numerous pop ups on his screen, each one advertising a live webcam show.

Eventually deciding to force shut down his laptop, Dominic put his finger on the power button but before he could push down to hold it, something on the screen caught his attention.

A live cam show was about to begin on one of the windows. In it, an incredibly ripped man wearing only a tight colorful Speedo appeared. His bulbous pecs and abs glimmered with light as he moved around, dancing seductively with a sexy gaze focused on the camera recording his every action. Dominic wasn’t even gay but he was mesmerized at how the man moved across the screen. Almost as if he was being hypnotized by how the man wiggled his hips.

Dominic would snap out of whatever trance he was in and notice that over a thousand people were watching the same stream. Every now and then, donations would scroll across the screen. Five dollars, ten dollars, twenty, even fifty dollars were being given to this guy for just dancing in front of a camera.

The chat alongside the stream was just lusting for the man, demanding he take off his speedo, go full nude, some people offering even more money for him to do so. Dominic just sat there, watching these horny people offer up their hard earned money to a guy just doing the bare minimum in entertainment. He had to admit though, it seemed like a pretty sweet set up. Barely any work for a what appeared to be a decent living wage. Definitely beat his current situation.

Dominic’s eyes then started to wander across the screen, eventually settling on a brightly colored button off in the corner. “JOIN US” was written in bold letters. Dominic scoffed at even the idea of deciding to get into a career as demeaning as this. In his mind, no real man would be caught parading themselves around in that manner.

Meanwhile, the man on the screen would continue his raunchy dancing. As Dominic kept watching, unaware that his food had been ready for a while now, a thought slowly crept into his head. He’d wonder what it would be like if he set up his own show. Dominic was a pretty good looking guy after all. He could probably get a small following. They would most likely be a bunch of guys, but money was money after all. Doing all those provocative dances though, all while oiled up and barely dressed was a deal breaker. Just imagine if any of the guys from work found out. He’d never hear the end of it.

“$100 donation received.”

The bright words flashed across the screen as a generous viewer made another hefty donation. Dominic was dumbfounded. That was nearly a day’s work of pay and that man easily made that and more in just several minutes. That settled it. Dominic, although not sold on the idea at all, was at least now curious as to how the process worked. He slowly moved the cursor over to the “JOIN US” button, giving the link a single click.

Immediately after clicking the button however, the screen on Dominic’s laptop instead turned completely white. A dull white at first, the screen slowly brightened up to the point where starring at it blinded Dominic a bit. This is when the changes would begin to occur. Although not aware of it at first, Dominic would soon learn what he really signed up for when he clicked that button.

From out of nowhere the fabric of Dominic’s clothes quickly disintegrated, disappearing into nothing and leaving him in just his underwear. The farmer’s tan he had developed after working years under the hot sun was on full display, perfectly accentuating his lean build. This was not going to last long however, as his tan began to even out, giving his whole body a sun kissed complexion. Before even having the chance to react, Dominic witnessed his body gain even more mass than before. His previously lean chest especially swelled up, forming a pair of sizable, juicy pecs. Cupping them in both hands, Dominic was in complete shock at the changes his body was undergoing. His previously flat stomach was next as one by one, rows of abdominal muscles would push against his skin and bulge to form a six pack.

After his torso was completed, the changes would then begin to affect his lower body. A fair amount of fat would accumulate around his tight ass, making his bottom more rotund. His thighs would also begin to thicken, creating a pair of powerful legs. These changes slowly filled out the saggy pair of underwear Dominic had been wearing. But the more mass that Dominic put on, the more stretched out his undergarments had become. Eventually it would begin to tear but from out of now where they’d be replaced by neon pink Speedo which perfectly complimented his new appearance.

Lastly, drastic changes would begin to affect his face. The scruffy beard he once proudly wore withered away, with light stubble taking its place. His thin lips got more plump, becoming more kissable in the process. His hardy and intense demeanor, a result of years of taxing physical labor, softened up. The masculine, blue collar worker was replaced by a big bottomed, gym obsessed himbo. In the end, Dominic was a completely different person.

Unknowingly, Dominic’s personality and memories were beginning to reconstruct themselves to better match his new appearance. His time as a laborer was replaced by the numerous shows he did as a cam model. And the extra revenue he was picking up allowed him to live a pretty extravagant life. Dominic could afford to go out every night, hook up with a guy every now and then, and then come back to his lavish apartment.

Dominic, having been lost in thought the entire time, eventually came to his senses. He took a look at the time and realized that he had one more show starting in just a few minutes.

[rocketeer9595]

New Year, New Me

The scene was electric as a myriad of bodies danced up against each other, all raving to the popping beats of the music coming from the speakers hanging on each corner of the room. It was only minutes til midnight and everyone was excited to enter the new year in high spirits. That is, everyone except Nate who had perched himself right next to the snack table at one end of the room.

Having been invited to this New Year’s Eve party by a friend who was no where to be found, Nate seemed to be the only one not enjoying himself. He was a pretty timid guy, so it was hard for him to strike up conversations with random strangers. So Nate just stood there, snacking upon the bowls of chips on the table and bopping his head to the music every now and then, all the while counting down the minutes until the new year so he could have an excuse to finally leave.

“Hey Nate! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Nate’s friend came out of nowhere and grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to speak over the loud music. “Here, take this.”

Nate was handed a bowl of grapes as the music stopped. He looked at his friend with a confused look in his face, not knowing what he was supposed to do with this.

“It’s for good luck! Like a New Year’s tradition. Eat them at midnight and you’ll have good luck for next year.” His friend tried to explain. “Some people even make a wish with each grape. Try it, you never know!”

Now Nate was never one to make resolutions or have goals with the new year. Mainly because he knew he’d never accomplish them. But this year hadn’t been the best for him. The crowd around him suddenly started chanting down from 10.

“10... 9... 8... 7...”

Nate stared at the bowl of grapes, thinking about what kinds of changes he’d like to make going into this new year.

“6... 5... 4...”

He took the first grape and tossed it into his mouth as the countdown got closer to zero.

“3... 2... 1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

The crowd of people cheered in excitement as Nate made his first wish. He found it silly, but played along anyways.

“I wish to be happy.” Nate thought to himself, not really knowing what to wish for. “I wish for more money, good health. Maybe make more friends.”

As soon as Nate made that last wish, he noticed more and more people crowd around him, asking him to take some selfies and wishing him a happy new year. Nate thought it was strange at first, but seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting.

Nate took another grape and pondered what his next wish would be. In the distance, he was able to spot his reflection in a mirror. His plump figure stared back at him. His smile slowly faded as he made his next wish.

“I wish for the motivation to exercise more. I wish I was more fit.”

Nate had problems with his weight since he was younger and became very self-conscious due to it. He had tried numerous times to fix the issue, but the lack of drive or motivation eventually killed any attempt to shed the extra weight. But maybe this would be the year everything finally changed for him. And unbeknownst to him, these changes would occur sooner rather than later.

Nate would slowly begin to feel a strange sensation radiate throughout his entire body. The heaviness he felt in his face and torso began to lighten. Looking back at the mirror across the room, Nate noticed the layers of fat surrounding entire body begin to disappear, causing his clothes sag on top of him. The fat would then quickly be replaced by pure muscle as his now flat chest ballooned back up with perfectly sculpted pecs. Running his hands down from his chest, he felt his now rippled abs and obliques. Nate had to take a look for himself so he ran to the nearest bathroom and immediately removed his shirt, revealing his new, lean body.

He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but all the excitement and joy he was experiencing was causing his cock to throb harder and harder. Beneath his pants, he could feel his little buddy grow, and it continued to grow much bigger than he expected. A wave of pleasure overtook Nate, forcing him to whip out his package and stroke it continuously until he exploded all over the bathroom mirror.

A proud Nate exited the bathroom, still shirtless, looking happy and acting more confident than he ever did. As he walked through the party, he’d noticed numerous women gawking over him as well as some guys admiring him as well. Nate would be offered drink after drink from people he’d never met before, who’d then also invite him to join their circles as they continued to party into the new year.

After some time, Nate had had more fun than he’d ever had in his life. He admired his muscles and was in general in a total state of bliss. Nate then again looked at himself in the same mirror and an idea popped into his head. As happy as he was in his current form, he was hungry for more. He looked around the room, threading between multiple people as he tried to find the bowl of grapes he had before. He’d eventually find them where he grabbed one and immediately tossed it into his mouth, making another wish in the process.

“I wish I was even bigger.”

As soon as the last word left his lips, Nate could immediately feel his body start to change again. His already shredded body began to grow, his muscles acquiring even more mass than before. Nate watched happily as his body became packed with muscle, but the feeling subsided as he noticed his lean physique begin to get covered under a thin layer of fat. Black hairs would then grow throughout his chest and torso, giving Nate the appearance of a bear than that of a jock. Running straight back to the backroom, Nate looked at these new changes in the mirror. But they weren’t done just yet. His facial features also began to distort themselves. His narrow face and chiseled jawline became round. His sexy stubble grew into a full blown beard. And his styled hair becoming wavy and messy. These changes seized for the time being, finally giving Nate the chance to look at his new self in the mirror.

This is not what he had in mind when he made his wish, but after the initial shock had subsided Nate felt somewhat at peace with his new look. He flexed his biceps, noticing how much they bulged compared to earlier. The definition wasn’t there anymore, but the size. That’s all that mattered. Smirking to himself, he seemed almost proud of his new self. But a feeling still lingered. In the back of his head the idea that he could be even bigger filled him with delight.

Turning towards the door to make his way back to the party so he could make yet another wish, Nate was stopped short by the same feeling he had felt earlier. His body was about to transform again. But to Nate it didn’t make any sense as he never officially made his wish. Either way the changes began to commence once again.

The first thing Nate noticed was his gut began to accumulate thick layers of fat. Before his very eyes, what used to be barely visible abs was completely smothered by a growing gut. In a state of panic he watched his stomach inflate to the point where he was not even able to see his feet. Next up, his pecs reacted to the accumulating mass as they started sagging down, becoming a pair of man boobs in the process. Finally, Nate’s legs, in response to his increase in weight, exploded as they became powerful and hairy thighs. The pants he was wearing tearing, showing a stunning red speedo, doing it’s best to hold his package.

Between deep and heavy breaths, Nate looked at his new body as his transformation finally came to a close. Initially donning a look of disgust, he played with his gargantuan belly. Rubbing his hands along the path of hair running down from his chest to his crotch. This feeling of disgust eventually turning into one of acceptance. In the end, his first wish, the one about being happy, was coming into fruition. Nate opened the door and in just his speedo, was met with applause and cheers as he entered the room.

[rocketeer9595]

Extra Credit

Trevor nervously tapped his foot as he waited patiently in front of the office to one of his college professors. The door was shut and locked, with a sign posted to the side.

“Prof. Lachlan Grimes, Office Hours: 12:00 PM - 2:00 PM”

In order to pass the time, Trevor opened several apps on his phone. One of which being his messages, the most recent from being from his dad which read “You better get it all sorted out with your teacher.”  The reason he had to talk to his professor was due to a bad grade he had gotten on his last exam. Trevor was a lousy student so this was expected, but a consequence of having piss poor grades was the possibility of losing his baseball scholarship. Academia might not have been his strong suit, but Trevor had always been a terrific athlete and had his eyes set of joining the Majors. 

Trevor would check his watch every few minutes until it eventually became noon. Hearing the door unlock, Trevor bolted inside, catching Professor Grimes by surprise as he hadn’t even had the chance to sit back down at his desk.

“Good afternoon. What can I do you for?” Prof. Grimes said as he finally sat down, watching as Trevor took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Hi, Professor. I’m Trevor Wyatt, I’m in one of your philosophy classes. PHIL 101. I didn’t do so good on that last exam and I was wondering if there was any kind of extra credit I could do to help boost up my grade.”

Prof. Grimes listened intently as he stroked his trimmed beard. He then typed in Trevor’s information into his computer as he quietly read through his records as Trevor could do nothing but wait.

“Well Mr. Wyatt, looking at your file says that you currently have a 61% in my class. And that you’ve only attended a total of four classes throughout the semester.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I need the extra credit.” Trevor attempted to plead to his professor.

“If you’d bothered to show up to class you’d have known that any attempts for extra credit have already come and gone. All this is also in the syllabus. You did bother to read it right?”

Trevor looked like a deer in headlights as it became clear as day that he came woefully unprepared to the meeting with his teacher. He sat in silence as Prof. Grimes stared at him and then proceeded to type things in to his computer.

“By doing some math, it looks like you can just barely scrape through with a C- if you submit all the remaining assignments and perform very well in the final. You’d need to get at least a 96% but it’s doable. You just have to put in the work.”

The thing was, however, that Trevor was never fully committed to putting much work into any of his studies. By this point in his life, he had been content with putting in the minimum effort. “C’s get degrees” is what his motto had been up until then. And anytime he slipped with his grades, his high school teachers and college professors had always been so accommodating. So Prof. Grimes being the first to flat out say “No.” was very jarring. 

Trevor left his professor’s office looking very down in the dumps. He knew especially well he didn’t have what it took to follow his professor’s advice and raise his grade the good ol’ fashioned way. That meant that his baseball scholarship would eventually get taken away from him and his future prospects were over. 

Heading straight to his dorm, Trevor took solace in the bottles of booze he had stored away. As he got deeper into the bottle of rum, Trevor’s thoughts turned from wallowing and sorrow into anger and frustration. His privilege also peeked its head in there a bit as he ranted to seemingly no one as to why his professor was not giving him what he wanted.

After spending the rest of the day in this state, a sloshed Trevor heard his phone go off. His father was calling him, most likely to get an update as to what happened with his professor. Not wanting to face his father just yet, he uncaringly tossed his phone to the side. However, he accidentally threw it towards the window of his dorm, cracking it. The sudden noise caught Trevor by surprise as he turned around real quickly, getting tangled up in his own feet and tripping. As Trevor fell, his head bumped against the edge of his dresser.

Moments later Trevor opened his eyes, feeling as if the effects of the alcohol had worn off. But it was a strange feeling as he didn’t feel hungover at all. He felt numb all over but besides that he felt fine. It even seemed as if he was floating a bit. Then the realization hit as Trevor got up only to see himself still laying on the floor. His first conclusion was that he was dead and was now a ghost as he looked at his almost see-through hands. Then he took a closer look at his body. Besides the large gash on his head, Trevor noticed that his body was still breathing. He had no idea what was going on. Perhaps this was all just a dream, but it felt all too real.

Trevor’s thoughts wandered all over the place until he eventually remembered the rant he was going on about in regards to his professor. As he focused in on that, his surroundings suddenly changed around him. He was no longer in his dorm room, but just outside the office of Prof. Grimes. It must have been late into the night, but Trevor could see a light coming through the crack in the door. Trevor attempted to open the door, but his hand passed straight through the doorknob, causing Trevor to accidentally tumble through the door and into the room.

Once inside, Trevor noticed his professor sitting at his desk with a red pen in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. Trevor was sure his professor had seen him or even heard him fall into the room, but Prof. Grimes remained focused as he appeared to be grading papers. Trevor inched closer and closer, passing his hand through all the knick knacks Prof. Grimes had scattered across his office. Eventually though, he somehow managed to push something off a bookshelf. Prof. Grimes took another sip of his scotch and suddenly heard the sound of glass breaking, startling him and causing him to spill the scotch on the papers he was grading. 

“Jesus Christ.” Prof. Grimes muttered as he quickly stood up. He rushed to grab some paper towels he had stashed in a cabinet and in doing so walked right through Trevor. Prof. Grimes didn’t notice a thing, but a weird feeling suddenly overcame Trevor. It’s as if his spirit was feeling drawn to his professor. On his way back, Prof. Grimes passed through Trevor again, but this time Trevor’s ghostly presence followed him back to his desk. Prof. Grimes sat back down to clean up the spill, but as he did so Trevor unwillingly sat down with him until both men were occupying the same space.

“What the-” Prof. Grimes said as his consciousness was being pushed back into his inner psyche as Trevor’s essence was beginning to take over. For Trevor, his previous feeling of numbness suddenly faded away as he could feel his hands all cold and wet. The smell of alcohol which he didn’t notice before lingered throughout the room. Trevor raised his hands in front of him, they felt heavier and looked older. An itch developed all around his face and when Trevor touched his chin the sensation of numerous bristle-like hairs rubbing against his hands almost freaked him out. Trevor had an inkling of what had happened but he had to see for himself. He ran over to a mirror mounted against the wall and his theory came true as he saw his professor, Lachlan Grimes, staring back at him.

The idea that his spirit had somehow possessed his teacher’s body felt so farfetched but that was indeed the reality of the situation. Trevor paced back and forth throughout the office, many thoughts running through his head. Eventually, one idea came to mind. He stopped to look at his reflection in the mirror again. He ran his fingers through his perfectly quiffed hair, stroked his beard, and adjusted his expensive looking coat.

Trevor walked back to Prof. Grimes’ desk, the sound of the soles of his leather shoes clapping against the wooden floors echoed throughout the room. He then went to the computer and searched for his file in the class roster until he eventually pulled up his records. Making several alterations to his grades, Trevor was no longer as risk of failing his course and losing his scholarship. Instead he was now passing the class with flying colors. So much so that even if he completely flunked his final he’d still walk away with a passing grade. 

Now all that was left was to return to his old body, but Trevor had absolutely no clue how to due so. He slapped himself numerous times but nothing. Trevor then decided to run back to his dorm, maybe being close to his own body would cause something to happen. In the pitch black of night, Trevor made his way over. Nonetheless, it was very strange to watch a college professor dash across campus in the middle of the night. But eventually Trevor made it back into his dorm room only to find his still semi-lifeless body lying on the floor. Trevor began to get worried. There’s no way he could stay stuck in his professor’s body. It would eventually become morning and he knew that if Prof. Grimes missed his early classes people would begin asking questions. The thought of possibly living out the rest of his life as Prof. Grimes entered his head, but that’s not something he could realistically do.. right?